


Learning Curve

by mtothedestiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Domestic, Everybody Lives, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Human Castiel, Kinda, Lawyer Sam Winchester, M/M, Parenthood, Romance, Samandriel - Freeform, Slow Build, Teacher Dean Winchester, legal guardian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-14
Updated: 2013-05-17
Packaged: 2017-12-08 10:46:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 37,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/760478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mtothedestiel/pseuds/mtothedestiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is a pre-school teacher and Castiel Novak is his new student's intriguing guardian.  They both know the sacrifices that come with caring for others, but, over time, they learn what it means to want something for themselves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Day

**Author's Note:**

> Hello readers! This is the first chapter of a longish story I'm working on. I am well acquainted with the workings of early childhood education and I always thought Dean would have made a great teacher in another life. I treasure your comments and I hope to have more soon!

Alright Winchester.  First day back.  Don’t let them see your nerves.  No fear.  Remember, they can smell fear.  Deep breath.  Three…two…one…go.  Dean pulled open the wooden door.

“Mr. Winchester!”  Eight excited voices cried in unison.  Dean was soon surrounded by a swarm of three year olds, all laden down with puffy winter coats and boots and colorful mittens just begging to get lost in all the hubbub that was the first day back from winter break.

“Mr. Winchester, look at my new mittens!  They’re pink.  My old mittens were purple, but then I lost one, and so we went to the store, and mommy got me pink ones instead, and then-“

“Mr. Winchester!  Did you know, that throwing snow at people is not very nice?  I threw snow at Jenny yesterday, and she said 'That’s not very nice!' and then-“

“Mr. Winchester, how big is the ocean?  My big brother told me it has sharks in it, and they will come get me and eat me up!  I don’t want the sharks to get me Mr. Winchester-“

“Alright boys and girls,” Dean cried over the eager chatter, “I’m glad you all had an exciting break!  Now who remembers the first thing we do in the morning?”

“Hang up all our stuff!” shouted a few of the children quickly.  Dean grinned.  His kids were wicked smart.

“Let’s get to it,” Dean said clapping his hands as the students all lined up by the hooks labeled with their name, dropping backpacks and lunchboxes and tangling their pudgy limbs in their coats. 

“Mr. Winchester, can you help me with my boots?”

“Me too!”

“Me too!”

“Mr. Winchester!”

Dean was distracted by the entrance of Ellen, his teaching aide, leading a small boy by the hand.  The kid looked nervous, eyes as round as dinner plates as he took in the chaos that was the first few minutes of any preschool day.  Ellen left the boy by the door, waving Dean over. 

“Is that our new guy?” Dean asked her.  Just a few days before the end of break Dean had been told he was getting a new student.    

“Yeah that’s Samandriel,” Ellen told him, saying the name carefully, “Though what his parents were thinking when they named him I cannot imagine.  Are we ready for him?”

“I’ve got everything but the folder,” Dean said, having already added Samandriel’s name to the helper chart and labeled a cubby for him, “I thought he was coming with his guardian so we could meet.  What gives?”  All of Samandriel’s paper work had been very specifically filled out by a legal guardian, not a parent.  Dean was eager to learn more about the boy’s family, lest he accidentally put his foot in his mouth, or worse, reignite some kind of trauma.   

“Beats me,” Ellen said, “I stopped into the office to check my mail and there he was.  Becky practically threw him at me.”  Ellen’s tone was dry as she talked about the flighty secretary, who of course would have no idea what to do with a three year old who got dropped off at the wrong door.  Dean chuckled.

“Okay leave him to me,” Dean told her, “Think you can handle boot patrol?”

“I managed it for you and that brother of yours for long enough,” she said, cuffing him lightly, though her voice was warm.  Dean didn’t have to be reminded that Ellen practically raised him and Sam after their own mother passed. 

“Get ready,” Dean warned her with a grin, “They’re gonna be _super_ happy to see you.”  

“Don’t you worry about me,” Ellen said with a wry smile, “I’ve got a new bottle of bubble bath waiting for me at home tonight, along with an old bottle of scotch.  I’m ready for whatever these munchkins can dish out.”

As calls of “Mrs. Ellen!” echoed through the classroom, Dean turned to greet his newest student.  Samandriel was small, even for a three year old.  His thick winter coat seemed to overwhelm his delicate frame, leaving him looking somewhat like a red polyester marshmallow. Only his pale face poked out of the hood, with big blue eyes and sandy blonde hair. 

“Hi Samandriel,” Dean said, careful to say the kid’s name right.  Honestly, who did that to a baby? “I’m Mr. Winchester.  I’m gonna be your teacher.  Is that cool with you?”   

Samandriel considered him carefully, eyes roving over Dean’s khaki pants and dark grey sweater with suspicion.  Dean shifted self-consciously under the little boy’s piercing gaze.  He’d meant the question somewhat rhetorically, but clearly Samandriel was more of a literal kind of guy.  At long last, seemingly satisfied, he nodded, offering Dean a tentative smile.  Whew. 

“Alrighty,” Dean said, “Let’s get you out of that coat so you can make some new friends.  I bet if you look over there you’ll find a hook with your name on it.”

Samandriel’s eyes lit up with interest as he made his way to the coat rack.  Dean already felt the early stirrings of affection for the kid as he reached on tip toe to hang his backpack up.  Kid number nine.  Dean shook his head.  He remembered starting out two years ago with four kids registered, three hundred dollars out of pocket for a good calendar set, and the promise to Principle Singer that tacking a three-year-old program onto the existing Lawrence Elementary would profit them in the long run.  Everyone had warned him that parents would shy away from a man teaching kids this young, and that wasn’t even factoring in if they found out Dean was gay.  But early childhood education was the only thing Dean wanted to do, so he went every extra mile, attended every extra conference and workshop within driving distance, and tolerated the ogling of every middle aged female elementary school teacher in the tri-state area to ensure he offered the most kick ass program in the district.  And slowly but surely, Dean’s reputation was growing, along with his class size.  If they could get ten kids enrolled for next year, Dean would be entitled to a full time aide, which meant he could have Ellen with him every day, instead of just mornings three days a week.  Heaven on earth, in other words, at least in terms of teaching preschool.

Dean was pulled back to the present by a firm tug on his sleeve.  He looked down to see Samandriel looking at him determinedly, a bright yellow sheet of paper held up in his grasp.

“Castiel said I’m ‘apposed to give you this,” he said.  Dean took the sheet from the small boy, which turned out to be a note written in hasty, angular handwriting. 

_Mr. Winchester,_

_I apologize for missing our meeting this morning.  I admit I was a bit…confused as to where to locate the school’s car rider door and by the time I determined the entrance I was being called to a meeting at work.  If convenient, I would love to meet with you when I pick Samandriel up this afternoon._

_Thank you,_

_Castiel Novak_

_P.S.  Sometimes with other children, Samandriel has an easier time if he goes by “Sam”._

So this was Samandriel’s mysterious guardian.  Seriously, Castiel?  Samandriel?  Who came up with these names?  Dean shook his head as he led Samandriel back the coat rack to help him with his boots. 

* * *

 

By eight fifteen all nine of Dean’s students were gathered on the carpet for calendar.  Dean stood in the middle, his hands on Samandriel’s shoulders as the other students looked curiously at this newcomer. 

“So you guys probably noticed that we have a new friend with us today,” Dean said, and several of the kids nodded eagerly.  He asked the boy, “Can you say hello to the class?”

Samandriel looked up at Dean in despair, as if to ask “How could you do this to me?”.  Sorry kid, Dean thought, but these are the basics of social development.  Them’s the breaks.

“H-hello,” Samandriel said, stepping back closer to Dean.

“I’m Andy,” one of the boys immediately piped up, “What’s your name?”

“ Sam-Samand-uh-“ Dean squeezed the boy’s shoulder reassuringly, “I’m Samandr-“

“How come he can’t say his name right?” A nasally little girl’s voice interrupted him.  Bella, of course.  Little Samandriel looked ready to start bawling.  Dean needed to head this one off at the pass. 

“Hey, buddy,” Dean said kneeling down to the boy’s level, “Samandriel’s a tough one.  You’ll get the hang of it.  It says here you like to be called ‘Sam’, right?”

Samandriel nodded, his lower lip still trembling a little. 

“Boys and girls, can everybody say hello to Sam?”  Eight voices chimed up hello is unison.  Dean smiled at their welcoming faces.  Only Bela still seemed skeptical of the newcomer.  Time for the icing on the cake. 

“Can anybody here tell me somebody _else_ they know who’s named Sam?” Dean asked the kids.  Their little faces screwed up in concentration.  Dean could practically hear the gears grinding.  It was Andy who finally chimed in:

“Your brother!”  _Bingo_.  Dean silently blessed the day he had convinced Sam to take a day off from the firm and volunteer during the class Christmas party.  Mr. Winchester’s “baby” brother had been an instant hit, and to this day the kids still asked about him.  Eight faces were trained on Samandriel now, in various expressions of awe.

“You’ve got the same name as _other_ Mr. Winchester,” Andy said to Samandriel, “That’s Mr. Winchester’s _brother_.  …Wow.”  Dean could practically see Samandriel puff up as the other kids exclaimed their amazement.  He still stayed close to Dean though, fitting his chubby hand inside Dean’s roughened one.  Dean smiled again.  Looks like he had a new best friend for the rest of the year.

* * *

 

Castiel Novak made his way cautiously down the brightly painted cinderblock hallway, trying to remember which door the eager secretary had told him would lead to the three-year-old pre-kindergarteners.  They all looked the same, and the dozens of children making their way to and fro in the end of the day bustle wasn’t helping Castiel’s confusion. 

“You look a little lost.”  Castiel turned to find a tall, well built man wearing automobile decorated nurse’s scrubs and an easy smile.  “Looking for someone?”

“Yes, thank you,” Castiel said with relief, “I’m looking for Mr. Winchester’s room.”

The man looked surprised, but smiled again. “Well I should be able to help you out,” he said, offering Castiel a hand, “Dean Winchester.  Nice to meet you.”

So this was Mr. Winchester.  Castiel shook his hand firmly.  “Castiel Novak.”  He saw Mr. Winchester’s eyes light up with recognition.

“You’re Samandriel’s guardian,” he said, carefully pronouncing Samandriel’s name, as well as emphasizing the word ‘guardian’.

“Yes, I’m his brother,” Castiel clarified, and Mr. Winchester nodded. 

“Well I’m sure he’ll have a lot to tell you after his first day,” said Mr. Winchester, “My room is just this way.”

Castiel followed the man down the busy hallway, noting the many female glances that followed Mr. Winchester as they went, teacher and student alike.  He supposed the man was quite handsome, with his strong jaw and bright green eyes, not to mention all the paternal tendencies promised by a career in early childhood education.  Castiel could understand the appreciative eyes of the other teachers, and a few of the older girls who sighed adoringly as they walked past.

They arrived to a door decorated with a large ‘Welcome Back!’ made out of paper letters, with eight photographs of smiling children spaced in between. 

“I grabbed Sam’s photo today,” Mr. Winchester told him as they made their way inside, “So he should be on the door as well by the end of the week.”

“Wonderful,” Castiel said as he took in the classroom.  The walls were a cheerful yellow, and the room was filled with brightly colored bookcases at child height that held everything from storybooks to wooden block sets to play dishes and food.  Castiel was admiring the bulletin boards, which were covered in large laminated images of well known children’s book characters, when an excited voice called to him from across the room.

“Castiel!” A little body collided with Castiel’s knees, almost knocking him off balance as Samandriel gripped him in a tight embrace.  Castiel extricated himself from the boy’s grip so he could kneel down to his level, giving his bulky winter coat clad form a proper hug. 

“Hello Samandriel,” Castiel said, “How was your first day?”

“It was…good,” Samandriel said, as if he almost seemed surprised, “Me and Andy played with blocks, and Mr. Winchester read us stories, and for snack, we had mandarin oranges.  I told Mr. Winchester those were my favorite, and he gave me and extra slice.” Samandriel confided this last piece of information conspiratorially to Castiel before looking to Mr. Winchester, who winked at him as he removed his paint covered car scrubs, stowing them in a small locker by the door.  Castiel was pleased.  Samandriel seemed happy, and he hadn’t been this talkative in months.  Mr. Winchester was by the door now, wearing a clean, dark grey sweater as he waited to talk with Castiel.

“Samandriel,” Castiel asked his brother, “Do you mind sitting with your friends for a few more minutes while I talk to Mr. Winchester?”

“Okay,” Samandriel said with a smile, “Andy wasn’t done telling me about dinosaurs anyway.”

Castiel watched as Samandriel ran back to the carpet, where a few children still waited for their parents to arrive.  He began talking excitedly with a small boy with messy brown hair.  Castiel couldn’t believe Samandriel was already being so social. 

“He had a very good day,” Mr. Winchester commented as Castiel approached, “The kids already love him.”

“I can’t believe how talkative he is,” Castiel told him, “He’s usually very withdrawn around new people.”

The man shrugged good naturedly.  “Sometimes it just takes the right group.”

“He really did alright?” Castiel asked Mr. Winchester, “He didn’t have any problems with uh…his name?”

“There were a few questions,” he admitted, “Nothing we couldn’t handle.”

Judging by Samandriel’s happy expression as he sat with the other children, Castiel assumed Mr. Winchester was correct. 

“He’s had some trouble in the past,” Castiel told him, “I’ve never known quite how to help with it.”

“I’m keeping an eye on him,” Mr. Winchester assured him, “And if Sam tells you about any problems you can come straight to me.  No one gets left out in my class.”

Castiel felt a surge of warmth for the man.  Castiel was trusting him with the most precious thing in his life, and he could tell Mr. Winchester appreciated how frightening that could be.

“As for the name,” Mr. Winchester continued, “I’ve got a book I think you and Samandriel might like to read at home.”  He shuffled through a pile of folders and books before pulling out a bright pink and orange one, offering it to Castiel.

“Chrysanthemum?” Castiel stared at the cover curiously.

“Yeah,” Mr. Winchester told him, “Kevin Henkes is a great author.  He’s one of my go-to’s.  Anyway, it’s about a kindergartener whose name barely fits on a nametag.  I thought Samandriel might find somethin’ in common with that.”

“Yes, this is wonderful, thank you,” Castiel said with a smile, “I’m always looking for new things to read with Samandriel.”

“I’ll keep an eye out for more then,” Mr. Winchester said, “We’re all about literacy in here.”

“Maybe you could help me look for some stories about…unusual families?” Castiel asked hesitantly, “It can be confusing for Samandriel sometimes, and I have a hard time explaining why he has a big brother instead of a mother and father.”

“Of course,” Mr. Winchester said kindly, “I uh, I kind of wanted to ask you about that.  I don’t mean to stick my nose where it doesn’t belong, but I don’t want to put Samandriel in any uncomfortable situations if I can avoid them.”

“It’s no problem,” Castiel assured him, “Our parents married very young.  I’m the oldest of six, counting Samandriel.”

“There’s a pretty big age gap between the two of you,” Mr. Winchester observed, and Castiel nodded.

“Yes, twenty five years,” Castiel agreed, “My mother found out she was pregnant with Samandriel after she had already been diagnosed with a very serious illness.  She declined treatment so she could carry him to term.”

“I’m sorry,” Mr. Winchester said softly, and something in his eyes convinced Castiel that he knew more about that kind of pain than he let people know.

“She lived long enough to meet him,” Castiel continued, “And she named him.  But she died not long after.  We were fortunate that Samandriel was healthy, given my mother’s age and condition.  My father tried to raise him on his own, but he was no longer young himself, and he never recovered from my mother’s death.  When Samandriel was a little under a year old he died, of a heart attack the doctors said.  In his will my father named me Samandriel’s sole guardian.”

“That must have been a shock,” Mr. Winchester said with sympathy.  Castiel puffed up a little. 

“It was an honor,” he said firmly, “And now I can’t imagine my life without him.  I am…not Samandriel’s father.  But I want to fill that void for him, as best as I can.”  Castiel looked up to see Samandriel’s teacher staring at him intently, some indescribable emotion in his eyes. 

“Yeah,” he said, “Yeah, I get it.”  Mr. Winchester cleared his throat suddenly, and Castiel released a breath he didn’t know he was holding. 

“Anyways,” Mr. Winchester continued, “I appreciate you telling me about this.  It’s a big help when I know the whole story, and like I said: if Sam has any trouble, you let me know.”

“I will,” Castiel said, “Although Samandriel already seems more comfortable here than any program we’ve tried.  Thank you, Mr. Winchester.”  Castiel shook the man’s hand once more before calling for Samandriel.

“Did you make new friends today?” he asked as they walked back down the hall.

“Yeah!” Samandriel said, “Andy and Kevin, and Mrs. Ellen and Mr. Winchester too.”

“I’m glad,” Castiel said, “Mr. Winchester gave me a book for us to read together.  He thought you might like it.”

“Cool!  Do you think, when Anna comes over tonight, we could read it with her?”  Samandriel asked excitedly.”

“Of course,” Castiel told him.  Samandriel kept a tight hold on his hand as they made their way through the crowded halls.  It reminded him of Mr. Winchester’s strong shake from moments earlier.    

In retrospect, Castiel thought as they headed out to the parking lot, Mr. Winchester had held onto his hand for just a second longer than was really necessary. 

* * *

 

“Seemed like he had a good head on his shoulders.”

“Seems that way,” Dean agreed.

“Pretty good lookin’ too.”

“Yeah I’ll s-” Dean caught himself just in time, glaring at his smug aide, “Shut up Ellen.”

“Don’t sass me boy.”

Dean sighed.  “Yes ma’am.”

* * *

 

“ _Please Cas I can’t wait anymore-_ Christ- _Need you-please-“_

_Castiel tightened his grip on the man’s hips, holding him down against the car’s leather seats with bruising force as he laid a teasing kiss on the inside of his thigh.  The man stared down at him, green eyes almost black with lust and frantic with need._

_“Please Castiel,” Dean Winchester begged him, hips thrusting uselessly against Castiel’s grip, “Fuck, just touch me_ please _…”_

 _Castiel gripped the base of Dean’s cock, and the man let out a whine of ecstasy as Castiel_ finally _wrapped his lips around Dean’s hot, aching-_

Castiel Novak awoke in his bedroom with a racing pulse and an uncomfortable stickiness in his boxers.  Well _that_ hadn’t happened in a while.  He fumbled around in the dark of his room, changing into fresh bottoms before heading down to the kitchen.

Castiel ran himself a glass of water from the tap, gulping down the cool liquid eagerly as his pulse eased.  He tried not to think about his strange dream.  He didn’t even know this Dean Winchester, except that his program came highly recommended and that he had made a special effort to make Samandriel feel comfortable in his class.  And that his handshake had been firm and strong.  And that his smile seemed to light up the room.  And that his voice was soft and rough like-

Castiel shook his head.  He felt buzzy and unsettled.  He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this way.  Not in years.  Not since Meg had-

“Castiel?”  Castiel turned to find Samandriel staring at him from the kitchen door, his eyes wide.

“Samandriel?  Why aren’t you in bed?  Is everything alright?” Castiel asked in concern.  Samandriel’s bottom lip quivered.

“I had a bad dream,” the boy whispered, looking back into the dark hallway with unease.  Castiel immediately reached out, gathering Samandriel in close as the three-year-old ran into his waiting arms.  Lifting him up, Castiel rubbed gentle circles into the small boy’s back as Samandriel sniffled against his shoulder. 

“It’s alright,” Castiel murmured, placing a kiss in Samandriel’s fair hair. 

“It was dark, and I couldn’t find you,” Samandriel confessed, his voice muffled slightly from burying his face in Castiel’s t-shirt. 

“I’m here now,” Castiel assured him, wrapping his arms around the child more tightly, “There’s no need to be afraid.”  Samandriel clung to him, as if to ensure that Castiel wasn’t going to disappear, before taking a deep, shaky breath.   

“It’s very late Samandriel.  We should both go back to sleep.  Would you like some water?” Castiel asked.  Samandriel considered his offer, his nose still tickling against the fabric of Castiel’s pajamas.

“Can I have it in a grownup cup?” he asked after a minute.  Castiel smiled, before reaching into the cupboard for a small glass.  He sat Samandriel down carefully on the counter as he filled the glass partway full.  Samandriel took the cup carefully in both hands, Castiel retrieving his own glass, and the two sipped their water quietly for a few minutes, the only noise in the kitchen the soft hum of the refrigerator.  At long last Samandriel held his glass back up for Castiel to take, and after placing both glasses in the sink, Castiel lifted his brother once more and they headed back upstairs.  When Castiel paused in front of the first bedroom door, Samandriel let out a little whimper, arms wrapping tight around his neck. 

“What’s the matter Samandriel?” Castiel questioned the small boy gently.

“I’m still, uh, a little bit scared,” Samandriel admitted, plucking at the neck of Castiel’s pajama top, “Can I stay with you, Castiel?”  As usual, the minute Castiel looked down into those big blue eyes he was lost. 

 “Alright,” Castiel agreed, “Just this once.”  They headed to Castiel’s room, and soon they were both tucked safely into the queen-size bed.  Samandriel immediately curled up against Castiel’s chest, his breaths already slowing as he relaxed, safe in his brother’s arms.  Castiel felt himself start to drift off quickly as well, his confusion from his earlier dream soothed by Samandriel’s warmth and trust.  Just before he fell into slumber, he heard Samandriel whisper next to him very quietly.

“I love you, Castiel.”  Castiel smiled in the dark room.

“I love you too, little one.”


	2. Arts and Crafts and Confusion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel Novak is quickly becoming Dean's favorite volunteer.

Dean had never much cared for parent volunteers.  Mothers, and occasionally fathers, who visited the classroom, were either too nervous, staying close to their own child, or too pushy, unable to take Dean’s direction during activities.  Either way, the kids could sense the power imbalance and Dean found himself with nine riled up and surly three-year-olds by the end of the day.  It chafed Dean to no end.  If only he could get Ellen five days a week, then he wouldn’t need the extra help, but those were the cards he had been dealt.  Until he could get ten kids he had been doomed to a never ending train of well meaning but inept volunteers.

 Of course, that was until he had met Castiel Novak.  Somewhat awkward and quiet the day he had met him, Dean had been concerned when Samandriel’s guardian had sent back a filled out volunteer form: Thursdays, eight to twelve.  It turned out his fears were groundless.  For whatever reason, his kids had decided to adopt shy Mr. Novak as one of their own.  The end of his first day of helping had found Mr. Novak on the carpet in a puddle of three-year-olds, Samandriel in the place of honor on his lap as they watched Rudolph’s Shiny New Year before naptime, the kids paying more attention to Mr. Novak than the movie.  Dean observed the man as he stuffed take home folders, listening carefully to each child’s comment before calmly directing their attention back to the screen.  Ellen caught him staring, quirking an eyebrow and making teasing kissy faces until Dean turned bright red. 

That day had been the first of many, and as they rounded February Mr. Novak had firmly established himself as Dean’s number one volunteer.  He was calm, firm, and followed Dean’s instructions to the letter.  His presence seemed only to boost Samandriel’s confidence, though he was unfailingly impartial, disciplining his brother and the other children with equal patience and gentleness.  Mr. Novak never got overwhelmed, even when Andy cornered him one day to tell him the true story of aliens.  Dean had been about to swoop in and rescue the poor guy when to his surprise, Mr. Novak actually seemed interested in Andy’s long and winding narrative, listening intently to the toddler’s exaggerated and disjointed anecdotes.  It was only broken fifteen minutes later when Dean called everyone for snack, Mr. Novak still giving Andy his full attention, and even asking the occasional question.  Dean had clapped him on the back at the end of the day, offering his congratulations on his survival, and Mr. Novak had confessed “It was fascinating, really.”  Dean, and his class, had long begun to look forward to the end of the week, which now heralded the arrival of Mr. Novak, or as Dean, in his most secret thoughts, had begun to call him, his “angel of Thursday”.   

It was the tail end of February, and the time had come for Mr. Novak’s initiation into one of the true horrors of preschool.  Dean was a little nervous as the man arrived, hanging his trench coat on his customary hook and helping Samandriel to hang up his backpack. 

“Do you really think he’s ready?” Dean asked Ellen, who shrugged.

“As ready as any of us can ever be,” she said sagely.

“I just don’t want to scare him off like we did Sam,” Dean said, as Samandriel joined the other kids on the carpet and Mr. Novak approached them. 

“Quit your worrying,” Ellen scolded him, “He’s a grown man.  He can handle it.”

“Handle what?”  Mr. Novak looked at them both; his head tilted quizzically, mouth graced with his usual half smile.

“Mr. Novak,” Dean greeted him, clapping a hand on his shoulder, “Today is a big day.  Today, we begin the St. Patrick’s Day crafts.”

Mr. Novak only looked more puzzled.  “Is it not somewhat early to begin celebrating that holiday?”

Dean shrugged.  “In preschool we usually start the decorations pretty early,” he admitted, “So the kids have something to take home when the actual day arrives.”

“I see,” Samandriel’s guardian said, though he still looked skeptical, “And how can I assist?”

“You, my friend, have the most crucial, and, I’ll admit, nerve wracking job of all,” Dean told him.  Mr. Novak’s eyes widened, then narrowed to a squint.

“What kind of job?” he asked cautiously.  Ellen rolled her eyes.

“Will you quit being so gosh darn melodramatic,” she said to Dean, then to Mr. Novak, “We need you to help the kids with the glitter.”

“Oh,” Mr. Novak laughed, releasing his held breath, “Of course.  For a moment you had me quite apprehensive.”  This last part was to Dean, who scowled jokingly.

“Just you wait,” he warned, “One good fling and you’ll be picking sparkles from places you didn’t know you had.”  Mr. Novak just laughed again, and Dean couldn’t help but chuckle.  Still, glitter was serious business.  Sam had gotten a spoonful right in the scalp helping with the New Year’s fireworks paintings and he hadn’t been back to the room since.  He claimed he was still finding glitter in his shower drain.  Dean of course just told him to quit being a little bitch.  He hoped Mr. Novak could handle it.  The guy didn’t seem like some rainbow sparkles could frighten him off, but then again Sam was six four and all muscles so you really never could tell. 

“I’m sure I will prove able to the task,” Mr. Novak assured him, “What are we making exactly?”

“Pots of gold,” Dean informed him, “I will be manning the scissor station, Ellen is going to help with gluing, and you’re bringing up the rear with the gold sparkly stuff.”  Mr. Novak nodded, as if Dean was a general outlining a coming battle strategy to his loyal corporal.

“Very well,” the man said, “When do we begin?”

* * *

 

To no one’s surprise, Mr. Novak handled glitter application like a champ.  Dean was able to keep any kids from losing fingers, guiding their little hands as they cut yellow circles out of construction paper with child size scissors, without worrying about any unnecessary sparkles being flung around or ground into the carpet.  He managed to sneak a peek out of the corner of his eye, watching Mr. Novak patiently apply Elmer’s glue and help each kid sprinkle glitter over their project with a plastic spoon before carefully tipping the excess back into the container.  As usual, Mr. Novak’s calm demeanor and gentle instructions immediately settled even the rowdiest three-year-old, and Dean was able to focus on helping Kevin Tran with his cutting, and avoid a repeat of last week’s incident with the scissors, which had resulted in one long trip to the nurse’s office and one angry phone call from Mrs. Tran.

The only incident occurred when Charlie, explaining to Mr. Novak the latest development in her favorite tv show, gave one too enthusiastic an arm fling while holding a spoonful of glitter, leaving Mr. Novak pretty well coated from his shoulders up.  Mr. Novak blinked in surprise, and he and Charlie stared at one another for a long minute, faces frozen in identical masks of shock.  Charlie’s bottom lip began to tremble dangerously, and Dean was about to step in when Mr. Novak started to laugh.  It was a bright, genuine sound shook his shoulders as the man tried to brush the glitter off his white dress shirt.  Charlie was already smiling happily again when Mr. Novak ruffled her red hair good-naturedly and suggested that they try again, “though perhaps with a little more precision.”

 By the end of the morning the bulletin board held nine completed pots of gold, complete with sparkly coins, and, one slightly more tired than usual, but still in good spirits Mr. Novak. 

“Castiel Novak, you have passed the glitter initiation,” Dean told him in mock ceremony as he saw him to the door, “Welcome to the corps.”

“It’s an honor, I’m sure,” Mr. Novak huffed in laughter, keeping his voice low as Dean’s class settled down for naptime.

“Really though,” Dean continued, “We don’t get many volunteers we can really count on.  The kids love you man, and you’re good with them.”

“Thank you,” the man said modestly, “I look forward to my time here.  You run a fine class, and Samandriel is very happy.  I’m glad to be able to spend more time with him.”

Dean looked away, pretending to check on his kids as he fidgeted under Mr. Novak’s praise, grinning nervously.  Out of the corner of his eye he caught a bit of shimmer in Mr. Novak’s hair as he slipped on his customary trench coat.

“You’ve got a little glitter…” Dean tried to indicate to a fleck of sparkles that was clinging to the man’s temple determinedly, but Mr. Novak just wiped his hand across his cheek fruitlessly.  Without thinking Dean reached up himself, flicking the glitter away before smoothing down the mussed hair beneath it.  Dean’s hand froze as he realized he was basically stroking the side of the man’s face, and his eyes darted to Mr. Novak’s nervously.  Instead of discomfort, or even anger, Dean found Samandriel’s guardian staring at him intently, eyes clouded with surprise, but also…interest?  Maybe even pleasure?  Dean realized his hand was still hovering above Mr. Novak’s ear, and he quickly dropped it back to his side.   The two men stood awkwardly in the doorway of the classroom, the only sound that of rustling nap mats and the soft music coming from Dean’s ancient speakers until Dean cleared his throat.

“So uh, thanks again for the help today,” Dean said as Mr. Novak’s eyes flickered back up to his from where, Dean was certain he was imagining, they had been staring at his mouth.

“Of course,” Mr. Novak said, “I’ll see you next week.  I’ll be ready for another battle in the war of arts and crafts.”

Dean laughed quietly, careful not to wake any of his kids as he shook Mr. Novak’s hand and the man took his exit, with one final wave at his little brother, who returned the goodbye sleepily from his place on the carpet.   He snuck one final glance at Mr. Novak’s retreating back before shutting the door softly and joining Ellen at the snack table to set up the next day’s activities.  Ellen watched him sit, and Dean flushed, knowing she had probably seen the entire exchange.

 “Boy, you’ve got it bad,” Ellen whispered, shaking her head with a smirk.  Dean didn’t even have the energy to deny it.  He munched on an animal cracker left over from snack, and tried not to think about blue eyes and soft dark hair. 

* * *

 

"You with me, Castiel?"  Castiel blinked rapidly.  Anna was looking at him curiously as she placed a large salad bowl in the table.  Was he?  Castiel had to ask himself.  Just a moment ago he had been back at Lawrence Elementary, with a pair of rough hands stroking gently across his temple.  Castiel shook his head, dislodging any stubborn images of green eyes or full mouths that promised to be just as rough and soft as a certain teacher's hands.

"My apologies," Castiel mumbled, giving his sister a half smile, "It was an interesting day in Samandriel's class this morning.  I must be more tired than I thought."

“Charlie hit Castiel with a spoon full of glitter,” Samandriel informed Anna from his raised seat next to Castiel.  Though he insisted that he was too old for a highchair, Samandriel still required one of Castiel’s very thick encyclopedias in order to reach his plate at dinner time.  Castiel finished laying out three sets of silverware as Anna laughed.

“That sounds dangerous,” she said, winking at Castiel.  Samandriel shrugged.

“It wasn’t on purpose, so it’s ok,” he explained, “Are the noodles done yet?”

“I’ll check,” Castiel volunteered, heading into the kitchen to check on the pasta baking in the oven.  It was Samandriel’s turn to pick what to have for family dinner, which meant of course they were having baked ziti, or as he liked to call it, “red noodles and cheese”.  Castiel pulled the hot casserole out of the oven, setting it on the counter next to the waiting broccoli.  When Samandriel picked the main course it meant Castiel got to pick the side dish, which was usually vegetable in nature. 

“So everything is good for Samandriel at school?” Anna came to retrieve the waiting broccoli dish from Castiel’s hands.

“Yes,” Castiel answered, “He seems very happy.  I’ve never seen him with so many friends, and he is always telling me stories when he comes home.”

“That’s good,” Anna nodded, “How’s the volunteering working out?”

“Well, I think,” Castiel said, “It’s a pleasant environment to be in.”

 “I’ll bet,” Anna said slyly, “How’s Mr. Winchester?”

Castiel colored as he went to retrieve some napkins from a drawer beneath the counter.  Anna was sharp.  It hadn’t taken her long to figure out the real motivation behind Castiel’s frequent volunteering in Mr. Winchester’s room, especially once she caught a glimpse of him while picking up Samandriel from school.

“He is fine, I assume,” Castiel answered her levelly, “He has made a very positive impression on Samandriel.”

“Samandriel’s not the only Novak Mr. Winchester’s made an impression on,” Anna said knowingly, “Come on Castiel, spill.  You’ve been somewhere else all night.  What happened?”  Castiel leaned against the kitchen counter, still hesitant even under his sister’s understanding gaze. 

“He touched me today,” Castiel confessed, and Anna’s eyebrows shot up.

“Nothing untoward, obviously,” he amended quickly, “After the glitter incident, as I was leaving.  There was still something in my hair and he um…” He brushed the skin against his temple, mimicking the earlier action for Anna’s benefit, “For a moment I thought-I’m still not sure-he seemed to...linger _._ ”

“And how do you feel Castiel?” Anna prodded him.  She joined him against the counter, letting the broccoli wait in order to talk with her brother.

“I feel...nervous when I think about him,” Castiel said uncertainly, “But so calm when he is present.  I am…unsure.  It’s been such a long time since I’ve felt anything like this Anna.  What should I do?”

Anna just smiled.  “I can’t tell you that Castiel,” she said, “You have to figure it out on your own.”

Castiel listened to Samandriel clink his silverware together at the table in the next room.

“Would I be letting him down?” he whispered, “Is it wrong of me to think of Samandriel’s teacher this way?  Am I shirking my responsibilities, Anna?”

“No Castiel,” Anna insisted, wrapping him in a loose hug, “No.  Samandriel is wonderful, and it’s all because of you.  Dad would be proud.”

Castiel was still unsettled, the warm fluttering in his stomach tinged with guilt anytime he thought of Dean Winchester.  Anna sighed, kissing Castiel on the cheek.   

“You work so hard Castiel,” she told him, laying a warm hand between his shoulder blades, “It’s ok just to want something for yourself.”

Castiel nodded, helping Anna to carry the remaining dishes into the dining room where his little brother waited.  With his strange little family together, Castiel soon found himself in good spirits again, though he couldn’t stop thinking about Anna’s words.  What did he want from this man?  Even if Castiel could decide, would Mr. Winchester be willing to give it to him? 


	3. Mother's Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel has an unexpected tea party to attend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, thanks for being patient! i'm gonna try and post some shorter chapters so I can keep the updates coming! Thanks for reading!

Time is a swift and frightening thing, Castiel thought to himself sometimes.  It seemed only yesterday that he had dropped Samandriel off for his first day of school and here he was already, putting away Easter decorations.  He carefully repacked the few ceramic rabbits and chicks that had been on the table, as well as the “Hoppy Easter” welcome mat Samandriel had picked out on sale.  Equally carefully, Castiel wrapped each of the springtime paintings and crafts Samandriel had brought home from school.  He used to laugh at his father, Castiel remembered now, when year after year he would pull out the old holiday art projects Castiel had made as a child.  “If you keep every meaningless art project from your children’s early childhood, you will soon fill the house,” Castiel would tell him, “They are little more than construction paper and plastic google eyes, Dad.  You don’t have to keep them.”  Chuck Novak would just smile fondly, and tell Castiel to take his teenage cynicism somewhere else, ruffling his hair as he went to tape yet another handprint turkey to the living room mantle. 

Castiel understood much more clearly now his father’s motivations as he wrapped each picture in tissue paper before laying them in a cardboard box labeled “Easter”.  From the cotton ball Easter bunny sculptures to the flower paintings made with his little handprints, each project was a snapshot.  Already Samandriel was growing, becoming less of a baby and more childlike.  In six months even, his hand would no longer fit over the print left on the blue paper Castiel now held in his hands.  In a few short years Samandriel would be grown, and Castiel would have little to remember this time but for photographs and these small projects that Samandriel brought home, excitedly telling him, “I made this for you!”. 

Castiel shook the melancholia from his mind, continuing his tidying.  What would he prefer?  To keep Samandriel the same age forever, never changing against the ebb of time?  The idea seemed even more unnatural to Castiel.  As much as he feared the flying years, he was equally excited to see Samandriel grow up.  It was a gift, to be able to nurture.  To guide someone, to show them the right paths, and to help them when they stumbled.  He’d had a good conversation about this with Dean.  _Mr. Winchester_ , he reminded himself sternly as he sealed the cardboard box with packing tape.  He could not allow himself to become too familiar.  Castiel would not endanger Samandriel’s happiness at school on a crush he wasn’t even sure could be reciprocated.  It was just so easy to slip into comfort around him, Castiel couldn’t help but think of him as Dean, leaning on the doorframe, arms folded across his firm chest. 

“You wish sometimes they could stay like this forever,” Castiel remembers him saying, “But you know that seeing them tear-assing around with their buddies at sixteen is going to be the best part.”

“You still seem somewhat wistful,” Castiel had observed, trying not to too obviously rake his eyes over the crisp white dress shirt Dean had worn that day, sleeves rolled up over his forearms. 

“Yeah, well you don’t get into early childhood unless you’re a little nostalgic by nature I guess,” Dean shrugged, giving Castiel a smile that made his heart flutter, even if he could see the hint of sadness in it. 

As Castiel made his way up to the attic, he wondered about that twist of longing in the teacher’s grin.  From what he gathered from other parents, Mr. Winchester was not married, nor had he ever been seen with any kind of girlfriend or date.  While this made the mothers titter, it filled Castiel with a kind of confused sadness.  It puzzled him why a man who so obviously born to child-raising had no family of his own, or at least someone to go home to.  Dean Winchester was handsome, patient, and utterly available.  Any woman would consider him a worthy partner, Castiel was certain, so why at almost thirty was he still unattached?  _Maybe a_ woman _isn’t the kind of partner he’s looking for_ , a rebellious little voice whispered in the back of his mind.  Castiel quickly stifled the thought as he set the box of decorations down amidst its brethren in the dusty storage room.  He shouldn’t build his hopes like this. 

Still, as Castiel came back down the stairs, his footsteps echoing through the empty house, he couldn’t help but feel a pang of loneliness.  Dean Winchester wasn’t the only one who was almost thirty with no partner.

Castiel’s episode of self-pity was interrupted by the vibration of his cell phone on the kitchen table.

“Anna,” he greeted, slightly breathless, having run to grab the phone before it went to voicemail. 

“ _Castiel…”_ Castiel paused halfway through wiping his dusty hands on the ratty t-shirt he had been wearing to clean the house. 

“Anna, are you all right?” he asked, “You sound _terrible_.”

“I think I have the flu,” Anna confessed, her voice a croak across the phone line, “I woke up this morning with a headache, and now I’ve got a 101 fever and I feel like my bones are trying to melt out of my body.  Castiel, I’m gonna miss the tea party…”  For a second Castiel thought Anna was delusional from her fever, but then he remembered with a jolt.  Today was Samandriel’s Mother’s day tea party.   

“Are you certain?” was all Castiel could ask, although it was a foolish question.  Anna didn’t sound in any condition to be out of bed, let alone in a room full of small children. 

“I’m sorry,” she said, “Even if I could stand up they wouldn’t let me in the building with a fever.  Samandriel-“

“No.  Don’t worry about Samandriel.  I’ll handle it,” Castiel assured her, “I’ll go in your place.  You rest, and drink fluids, and…whatever protocol sick people ought to follow.  I’ll come check on you after school.”

“Okay…” Castiel was concerned about a fever that could knock his firecracker of a sister out this quickly, but he was more concerned about his little brother being the only child alone during the Mother’s day party.  What time was he meant to arrive?  Ten?  A look at the wall clock read nine-forty five.  Curses.  Castiel surveyed his unkempt appearance in despair.  Oh well, he thought.

“Anna, I have to go if I’m going to make it to the party on time,” Castiel continued, “Are you sure you’ll be alright on your own?”

“Don’t worry, I just took some monster fever reducers,” Anna informed him, “I should be in a drug addled haze in the next half hour.”

“ _Now_ I am reassured as to your well being,” Castiel said dryly.

“I love you big brother,” she responded, “Have fun at the tea party.”  Castiel sighed.

“I love you too Anna.  Feel better.”  He hung up, grabbed his keys and his coat, and made for the door.

* * *

 

Dean waited as the women, mostly mothers, with one grandmother, filed in to find the seats labeled with their kid’s name.  What he didn’t expect was to see Mr. Novak, slinking in at the back of the line, waving at Samandriel shyly as he took his seat.  He appeared slightly disheveled, his face flushed as if he had just run a distance, and under his trench coat, in place of his usual crisp shirt and tie, he wore an oversized band t-shirt over a pair of worn jeans.  The other mother’s were looking at him with interest, a few gazes downright predatory as they took in the man’s lean frame and the crescent of chest exposed by the stretched neck of his shirt.  Dean admittedly had to take a moment to himself, resisting the urge to run his hands through Castiel’s rumpled hair and taste the pale skin in the exposed hollow of his throat.  Not Castiel.  _Mr. Novak_ , he remembered, kicking himself.  He couldn’t slip up and embarrass himself in front of all these mothers with his stupid crush.  Mr. Novak looked nervous under the women’s scrutiny, and the student’s excited chatter.

“Mr. Novak,” Dean greeted him quietly as the kids settled down, “I didn’t expect to see you today.”

“Samandriel’s sister was going to come,” Mr. Novak admitted, “but Anna woke up this morning with the flu.  I’m sorry for my appearance, but she just called me and I didn’t want Samandriel to go without a guest.”

“No worries man,” Dean assured him, “You’re not the first guy I’ve had show up for the Mother’s Day tea party.”  _Though probably the first guy this good lookin’_ , he added to himself.

Now, while Dean was the first to admit that he maybe had a tendency to overcompensate, he was secure enough in his masculinity to admit he threw a _badass_ tea party.  Each mom got presented with a handmade paper corsage, followed by a card, in which Dean had helped each kid write something they loved about their mother, or grandmother, or sibling etc.  At least four of the women were in tears before they even got to the “I’ve got the most beautiful Mom” song.  Even Mr. Novak looked at little misty eyed at the card Samandriel gave him, with a drawing of the two of them and a red-haired woman Dean assumed was Castiel’s sister.  Dean had to look away as he hugged his little brother, nearly crushing the corsage awkwardly pinned to his lapel.    

Next, Ellen started handing out little cups of iced tea and pink lemonade, which were made of real fake china, thank you Big Lots, while Dean set up the TV.  As the moms sat with their kids eating miniature cupcakes that Dean had only had to check with Sam three times on to make sure he had the recipe right, they all watched the video Dean had recorded last week of each of his student’s Mother’s Day thoughts.  It was a guaranteed crowd pleaser, ranging from Kevin’s shy squeak of “Hi mom!” to Charlie’s three minute narrative of the time she and her mom went shopping for Easter shoes, and finally Samandriel giving an adorable “I don’t understand.  Why do you want me to say Happy Mother’s Day?” that made Castiel, that is, _Mr. Novak_ , laugh out loud.

All in all, it was a kick ass party.  All the women were charmed; by their kids, by Dean, and not to Dean’s surprise, by Mr. Novak.  They _oooohed_  and _ahhhhed_ over him as he helped Samandriel navigate the complexities of cupcake wrappers, whispering behind their hands to each other and laughing.  More than one mother stopped to lay a hand on Mr. Novak’s shoulder to tell him how brave he was, and how well Samandriel seemed to be turning out.  As far as Dean could tell, he didn’t seem to be enjoying the attention, but was actually a little embarrassed, keeping his attention on Samandriel as the morning progressed.  Which, Dean figured was probably for the best, otherwise he was bound to notice that Kevin’s mom was looking at him like a tiger eyeing a fresh cut of meat.  Dean had been on the receiving end of that stare, when he wasn’t on the end of an angry phone call, that is, and it was a scary place to be. 

“You alright, there?”  Dean asked the man when he returned to the table for another cupcake, “You look a little overwhelmed.”  Castiel smiled at him, nervous but grateful.

“I’m fine,” he assured him, “Just, ah…the other mothers…”

“They’re a handful,” Dean laughed, “And you’re a bit of a novelty, man.”

Samandriel’s guardian tilted his head, confusion written on his face.  “What do you mean?”

“Well, you know,” Dean muttered, coloring, “You take good care of your kid, you’re young and uh…good looking.  You know, to the mom set.”  _God_ what was he doing?

This time it was Mr. Novak who blushed. “Oh,” he said, “I suppose so.  Mrs. Tran _has_ been examining me with somewhat fervent interest.  I thought perhaps I had something on my face.”

“Yeah dude,” Dean chuckled, “Your face.”  The man gave a wry half smile, then straightened, as if steeling himself for his return to the gaggle of gossiping women.  Dean caught his shoulder before he walked away, causing Mr. Novak to look at him in surprise.

“Listen,” Dean began, a half-formed plan in his mind, “Not to sound like a total freak of nature, but me and my brother are grabbing a burger later, if…I don’t know…you wanted to come with.  Have a little guy time.”  Even to his own ears he sounded like a weird moron.  _Christ._

“Really?” Mr. Novak asked, in a voice that totally didn’t sound uncomfortable or weirded out, “I wouldn’t want to intrude-“

“No way,” Dean said, maybe a hair too quickly, “Sam’s heard all about you from my volunteer stories, he’s dying to meet you, and besides, if I’m being honest, we’re a little codependent.  It’d be great to have you there.  No pressure or anything, of course.”  Yeah.  No pressure.  Dean’s heart wasn’t beating out of his chest waiting for his answer.  Nope. 

Mr. Novak looked at him thoughtfully for a second, before smiling cautiously. 

“That sounds…good,” he said, “Great, in fact.  I haven’t spent any real time with an adult besides my sister in ages.  I will have to make arrangements for Samandriel first, of course.”

“Yeah, yeah, of course, Mr. Novak,” Dean agreed, “That’s great though.  I’ll tell Sam and we can meet you.  How’s six o’clock sound?”

“Alright,” Mr. Novak said, and then, “Mr. Winchester?”

“Yeah?”  It really shouldn’t do things to him when he calls him that, Dean thinks to himself, but _man,_ does it ever.

“Perhaps, once we are out of the classroom, if you’re not uncomfortable,” Mr. Novak said, nervous again, “You could call me Castiel.”  Dean’s stomach did a belly flop.

“Maybe,” he said grinning, “And maybe you could call me Dean.”  This time it was Castiel’s turn to grin.

“We’ll see,” he agreed, before returning to the table where Samandriel, and eight nosy mothers, awaited him.  Dean resisted the urge to do a fist pump.  He had just asked the guy to eat dinner with him and _Sam_ , for Christ’s sake.  It was nowhere near date material.  It was barely even friend material.  Still, _Castiel._   For the first time in a long time, Dean couldn’t wait for school to get out.  


	4. A Night Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas joins Dean and Sam for dinner. Dean and Cas learn more about each other.

It turns out Castiel didn’t have to worry about making arrangements for Sam.  Dean had heard Mrs. Bradbury talking with him as the party wound down, inviting Samandriel over for a play date with Charlie.  With assurances that Samandriel would be safe and home by eight, Castiel stopped by the classroom door to confirm their plans and get directions to one of Sam and Dean’s favorite bar and grills. 

And thus around six Dean found himself in the Impala with Sam in the passenger seat and a stomach full of unwelcome butterflies. 

“Dean?”

“Yeah Sam?”

“…You wanna go inside in the near future?”  Dean shook himself, pulling the keys out of the ignition and stepping out of the car.

“Yeah man, I’m starved,” he quipped, as Sam joined him.  Already Dean’s eyes were peeled for Castiel’s trademark tan coat.  As they stood in the entryway of the restaurant, Sam was clearly in the same line of thinking. 

“So where’s this friend of yours?”he asked.  Dean thought he put a funny emphasis on the word _friend_ , but decided to let it slide as a familiar voice spoke up behind them.

“Hello…Dean.”  The name sounded unpracticed on Castiel’s tongue, but Dean still cracked a grin as he turned to greet his favorite volunteer. 

“Hey Castiel,” Dean said, the new name equally strange and yet exciting in his mouth, “Glad you could make it.  This is my baby brother Sam.  Sam, this is Castiel, one of my favorite parents.”

“Nice to meet you,” Sam said, taking Castiel’s hand in a strong shake.

“Likewise,” Cas said, his voice low, “You seem far too tall to be Dean’s ‘baby brother’”

Sam smirked at Dean.  “I like this guy already.”

They got themselves a table and had a round of burgers ordered in just a few minutes.  Sam and Castiel hit it off right away, once Cas got over his initial shyness.  It turned out Cas, when he wasn’t volunteering in Dean’s room, was a translator for a major publishing company.  They immediately fell into a friendly debate over ancient texts and the best translations.  Dean, who had his masters in early childhood literacy, followed the conversation just fine, but was happy to see his brother finally have someone he could go full geek with, and didn’t mind observing more than talking.  Likewise, Castiel seemed eager to have a grown up conversation, though periodically he would look to Dean, as if to make sure he wasn’t feeling excluded.  If that gave Dean a warm feeling in his chest, well it was nobody’s business but his. 

“My main income comes from translating popular novels for international readers,” Castiel confessed, in between bites of his burger, “If you’ve ever read any of Carver Edlund’s books in Mandarin or Spanish, it’s been my doing.  The stories are tacky, but it allows me to work from home, which is perfect for me and Samandriel.”

“How many languages do you actually speak?” Sam asked, eyes round.

“Fluently?  Seven,” Castiel admitted, “Though I’m conversational in about ten.  I’m attempting to polish my Italian so that I can get more classic literature work.”

“What kind of stuff are you aiming for?” Dean asked curiously as he stole one of Sam’s fries, earning a glare.

“My highest aspiration is Dante,” Cas confided, “I wish to provide the definitive twenty-first century English translation of _The Inferno_.”

“Why not do the whole Divine Comedy?” Dean asked, and Sam looked at him in surprise, “What? I read. I probably studied more literature in college than you did.” 

“Maybe,” Cas pondered, “It would be years of work.  The project of a lifetime.”

“I’m sure you’ll get there,” Dean said, causing Castiel to look down at his drink with a small smile.

There was something great about hearing Castiel (because he could call him Castiel now) talk about something that didn’t involve arts and crafts projects.  His eyes took on this glowing quality, not like ‘lit up’ but more like lit from deep within, like he was revealing some secret flame the burned at his core.  And he was so goddamned _modest_.  Dean just wanted to shake him and tell him how awesome he was.   

Castiel looked down at his now empty soda.  “I think I’ll go ask the bartender for a glass of water,” he declared, rising.  He left, but not before giving Dean another warm smile.

“So how long’s this been going on?”  Dean was so content that he was unprepared for Sam’s irritating skills of deduction.

“How long’s what been going on?”  Dean sipped his beer as he watched Castiel walk to the bar, barely paying attention to Sam’s question.

“You and Mr. Tall Dark and Awkward.”  Dean nearly choked. 

“Are you referring to Castiel, who, may I remind you, is one of my kids’ _guardian_?” he asked pointedly.

“If that’s the same trench coat wearing guy at the bar right now, upon whom you are, super obviously I might add, nursing an enormous crush,” Sam said knowingly, “Then yeah.  You’ve got it bad, dude.”

“What? No!” Dean objected, “I don’t have the hots for the guy!  I _admire_ him and …you know, his courage and stuff.  It takes a lot to raise a kid by yourself.”

Sam looked skeptical.  “Uh huh,” he said with a raised eyebrow, “Which is why you’ve been _admiring_ his ass for this entire conversation.”  Dean reluctantly tore his eyes away from Castiel’s admittedly admirable backside to glare at Sam.

“Mind your own business, bitch,” he muttered, standing, “I’m gonna hit the head.”

“Whatever you say,” Sam shrugged, “Jerk.”

When Dean returned from the men’s room, he found Sam and Cas in deep conversation, and when he sat back down, both men looked at him with what Dean could only call admiration. 

“What?” he asked. 

“Sam was just telling me how you practically raised him by yourself,” Castiel said, his voice soft.  Dean blushed, looking at Sam, who just shrugged. 

“It wasn’t that big a deal,” he deferred, with a grin, “It wasn’t like I could just let the little moose starve.”

“On the contrary, it was a very big deal,” Castiel insisted, “It must have taken a lot of courage.”

“Funny,” Sam commented, “Earlier Dean was saying the same thing about _you_.”

Castiel looked surprised.  “Well yeah,” Dean spoke up, “You’re doing the same for Samandriel as I did for Sam.  More even.  I had a lot of people helping me out.”  God, he was going to _kill_ Sam for that later.  Castiel was blushing as furiously as Dean knew he was. 

“I just hope my brother turns out as well as yours has,” Castiel said modestly, looking down at the bright red tablecloth.

“Well that’ll be tough,” Dean said with a sigh, “Sam’s a tough act to follow.”

They both laughed as it was Sam’s turn to blush.

“Really though,” Dean continued, “Samandriel is a fantastic kid.  You’re doing better for him on your own than most kids get with two parents.”

 “A toast then,” Castiel offered, raising his beer, “To raising excellent Sams.”

“Damn straight,” Dean agreed, clinking their glasses.  Sam just shook his head, grinning widely.

“Aw, don’t feel left out Sammy,” Dean jibed, elbowing his brother playfully, “You’ll get your chance.”

“Maybe sooner than you think,” Sam said with a coy smile.  Dean nearly did a spit take.

“What?!” Dean exclaimed, “Did you- Is Jess-“  Sam shook with laughter at the look on Dean’s face.

“No! God no,” he said, then, blushing, “But we’ve been talking a lot about how we both want to have a family someday.  And I uh, well… I bought a ring last week.” Dean’s eyes widened and he slapped Sam on the back, grinning ear to ear. 

“You lovesick bastard,” he crowed, “That’s freaking fantastic!  Do you hear that Cas?  I’m gonna be a brother-in-law!”  Sam laughed, shushing him as Dean shouted in the middle of the restaurant.

“Dean, _Dean_ settle down,” he chided, “I haven’t even asked her yet.” 

“Like she’s gonna say no to you,” Dean scoffed, “Handsome sasquatch that you are.”  He ruffled Sam’s hair affectionately as Castiel chuckled at their antics.

“Yeah, well who knows,” Sam shot back, “I’ve got this really annoying older brother who might scare her off.”

“Ha! Please, I’m adorable,” Dean laughed.  Sam just shook his head.

“I can’t wait ‘til you find somebody of your own and I get to make fun of you,” Sam pouted as Dean pointedly did _not_ glance over at Castiel, “Though I imagine they’d have to practically chain you to the altar to keep you from bolting.” 

“Don’t worry,” Dean joked, “I’ll get there.  I might have to knock some skulls together on Capitol Hill first, of course.”

“Why would you need to do that?”  Castiel asked, head tilted in open curiosity.  Dean felt a moment of panic.  In his excitement for Sam, he had forgotten Cas didn’t know about him.  It was one thing to have a crush, but he didn’t actually know if Cas was interested in men, or even how he would react towards Dean being gay in general.  Sam blanched, looking at Dean anxiously.

“Dean I didn’t mean-I mean I figured he already-“ Sam stammered, handling his beer nervously.

“It’s okay Sam,” Dean said, then, steeling himself, he told Castiel, “Cas, I’m gay.”

“I see,” Castiel said, pausing to sip on his soda for what to Dean seemed like a millennium, “Well they tell me if Obama continues in his current policies we could have marriage equality within the next five years.”  

Dean released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.  “I’ll drink to that,” he quipped, tapping his bottle against Castiel’s glass again before taking a long swig.  Cas grinned, and even Sam smiled nervously.  The tension had dissipated by the time Sam’s phone went off a minute later, “Heat of the Moment” blaring from his jacket pocket.

“I better take this,” he said, excusing himself.

“Don’t worry, me and Cas will be just fine,” Dean called after him, before turning back to find Castiel giving him a curious look.

“You keep calling me that,” he observed, “’Cas’.”  He said the word carefully, like it was from a foreign language.

“Should I not?”  Dean asked.  There he was, getting too familiar again.

“No, no I quite like it,” Castiel said quietly, “No one’s ever called me that before.”  Dean felt a little flutter low in his belly.

“Can I ask you something?”  Cas asked suddenly.

“Shoot.”

“Your brother seemed quite uncomfortable talking about your sexuality,” Castiel observed, “Is it a point of tension between you?”  Castiel’s ability to talk about taboo subjects with the air of someone discussing the weather should not have appealed to Dean as much as it did. 

“Nah, he doesn’t care,” Dean said, “He’s just afraid he’ll get me into trouble at school.”

“Because of me?”

“I guess.”  Dean sipped his water casually as Castiel examined him, brow furrowed in confusion. 

“He forgot that you were one of my parents,” Dean explained, “I’m uh, not really _out_ at work.”

“Sam fears that I would report you?” Cas asked, “Why would I do that?”

“Some people would.  Some people, if they knew, well…there would be ugly implications.  It’s not easy to be gay and want to teach young kids,” Dean admitted.  Cas looked at him askance, huffing a laugh.

“We live in Kansas,” the man said, “It’s not easy to be gay and do anything.  But you can’t hide part of yourself away because you fear the judgment of others.”

“Yeah that’s real easy for you to say,” Dean began.

“No,” Castiel said, looking at him pointedly, “It’s really not.”

Oh.  _Oh._   “You’re…”

“Generally,” Castiel admitted, “I was engaged to a woman for quite a long time, but she was…an exception.  Since I’ve had Samandriel I haven’t had occasion to really meet anyone.  But if he asks me I won’t hesitate to be honest with him.” 

“That’s good,” Dean said, nodding as he spotted Sam emerging from the lobby, “That’s the way it should be.”

Sam returned to the table with an apologetic look on his face.

“That was the office,” he said, grabbing his jacket off the back of his chair, “Apparently one of our more well known clients just got caught driving with a dubious blood alcohol level and its all hands on deck.”

“That’s fine Sammy,” Dean answered, “But we came in one car.”

Sam ran a hand over his face in irritation.  “Damn I forgot,” he said, “It’s cool, I’ll just call a cab and-“

Castiel spoke up with a soft hand on Dean’s arm.  “I have no objection to giving you a ride, if your brother needs the car,” he offered, “If you’re comfortable with that, of course.”

Dean was momentarily distracted by the feeling of Cas’ hand on his bare skin before he was able to answer.  “Uh, yeah.  Sure, that’s fine I guess,” Dean said, nodding as he tossed the keys of the Impala to Sam.  Sam looked somewhat surprised.

“You put one scratch on her,” Dean warned him, “And you’ll be recommending me a good defense attorney from beyond the grave.  Got it?”

Sam rolled his eyes, saying a polite goodbye to Castiel before making his way out of the restaurant, thoughts clearly already on the case at hand.  Dean shook his head with a smirk before looking back to Cas, who, as usual, was staring at him intently. 

“We should probably depart soon as well,” Castiel informed him, “Mrs. Bradbury will be dropping off Samandriel at eight.”

Dean nodded, before realizing Cas’ hand was still on his arm.  Castiel seemed to notice at the same moment, and quickly withdrew his hand as Dean waved the waiter down to ask for their check.   

* * *

 

The ride home was filled with soft words and comfortable silence.  Dean wasn’t used to being the passenger, but he found that he liked the feeling more than he thought he would.  Castiel was a quiet driver, his gaze fixed on the road, two hands on the wheel, but his posture was relaxed and his face was open.  Dean watched him out of the corner of his eye, admiring the sharp lines of his profile and the strong grip of his hands.  As they pulled up to the curb in front of Dean’s apartment, Castiel turned to meet Dean’s gaze. 

“Dean,” he began, “Thank you for inviting me out tonight.  I can’t remember the last time I ate a meal that didn’t involve a highchair or children’s menus.”

“I’m glad you came,” Dean answered him with a grin, “I’m sorry your only recent moment of adult socializing was with me and my dorky brother.”  A streetlight threw Castiel’s features into sharp relief, making his skin glow gold in the fading evening light.  Dean’s mouth felt dry, all his humor not quite able to hide how mesmerized he was by Castiel’s features.

“It was my pleasure to get to know you outside the classroom,” Castiel insisted, “And to meet your brother.  Wish him luck from me on his proposal.”

“I will,” Dean said, “Hey, maybe you could give him some advice.  You’re experienced in that area, right?”

Castiel looked away.  “I might not really be the best person for that,” he muttered, and Dean kicked himself.

“Listen Cas, I didn’t mean to-“

“It’s fine,” Castiel assured him, “Just…it’s not a good memory yet.  Someday it will be.”

“Was it a bad breakup?” Dean asked before he could stop himself.  He had to know what was making Castiel hurt in this way, though this was not the kind of memories he had wanted to leave Cas thinking about tonight.

“We didn’t split up.  Well, we were going to, I think.  She,” Cas swallowed, his voice rough, “She died before we really decided anything.”

“Cas, I’m sorry-“ Dean began, but Castiel waved him off.

“No, it’s alright.”  Cas laughed, a soft quiet thing.  “In actuality, Meg was not a very kind person.  Three years later I suppose that it’s alright to say that.  And at the end we were fighting more than we weren’t.  But I loved her.  Truly I did.”  Castiel grew quiet for a few moments, and Dean couldn’t help but place a comforting hand on the man’s shoulder.  Cas let out a deep breath and looked at Dean gratefully.

“Anyway,” he continued, “Six months later Samandriel was placed in my care, and I never looked back.  I never looked anywhere, really.  Or at anyone.”  Was the car getting smaller, or was Cas sitting a little closer to Dean than before?  Did his eyes just flick down to Dean’s mouth?

“Never?” Dean asked, his breath growing  a little short, “In three years?”   

“Never,” Cas whispered, staring at Dean intently, “At least, not until recently.”  Suddenly the man was leaning in and Dean wasn’t moving because all he could do in that moment was stare at Castiel’s mouth and wonder if it would be dry or soft against his and then he didn’t have to wonder anymore because Cas was kissing him and it turned out that somehow the answer was both.  Dean sat stock still, his eyes wide in shock as Castiel’s lips moved against his, which must have given him the impression that the feelings weren’t mutual because he broke the kiss off suddenly, blushing deeply as he moved as far away from Dean as the small car space would allow.

“Oh my God I can’t believe I just did that,” Castiel babbled, “Please accept my apologies, Mr. Winchester, that was totally inappropriate-“  Dean cut him off, using a hand on the back of Castiel’s neck to pull their mouths together once more.  Castiel froze against him for a moment, then melted, lips moving eagerly against Dean’s.  Dean didn’t really know what he was doing, only that it felt startlingly, shockingly _right._   The kiss was sloppy, Dean winding his hands into Castiel’s short hair as he felt the tentative stroke of the man’s tongue along his bottom lip. He opened his mouth willingly under Castiel’s prodding, quickly rewarded by the sweet slide of tongues and Castiel’s hand gripping tight on his upper arm.  His heart pounded in his chest as Castiel licked across the roof of his mouth before tangling their tongues again.  Dean let Castiel have his way with him more another moment before pulling away with soft presses against Castiel’s rough mouth.  He touched their foreheads together like children sharing a secret, close enough that Dean could still feel the puff of Castiel’s uneven breath hot against his face.

“I think,” Dean said, voice husky, “Now you’re _really_ gonna have to start calling me Dean.”

“ _Dean,_ ” Castiel breathed, pressing his lips against Dean’s roughly, “Dean, Dean Dean…”

Dean groaned into the kiss, the sound rumbling deep in his chest as he tasted Castiel’s mouth until they were both starving for air.  This time it was Cas who broke contact, gasping, and Dean drew a shuddering breath as well. 

“That,” Cas said roughly, “Was even better than I had imagined.”  His hand moved up to span the width of Dean’s face, brushing his thumb against Dean’s bottom lip.  Dean could only nod eagerly because holy _fuck_ Castiel had imagined this ahead of time.

“Dammit Cas,” Dean confessed, “I’ve wanted to do that since the day I met you.”

“Dean,” Castiel said, and Dean shivered at the sound of his name from Cas’ lips, “We should have dinner.”

“We just ate,” Dean said, still mesmerized by Cas’ mouth.  Castiel laughed, kissing Dean, quick and light.

“I mean we should go out together.  On a night besides this one.”

Dean smacked himself on the forehead, laughing.  “Oh,” he said, “Right, yeah.”

“Any thoughts on the matter?”  Castiel traced the contours of Dean’s jaw with his strong, slim fingers.  Dean caught Cas’ hand, kissing his knuckles lightly. 

“Absolutely,” Dean said, “Name the place and I’m there.”

Castiel’s smile lit up the dark driveway.

 


	5. Something good

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel calls Anna when he gets home.

When Castiel got home, after putting Samandriel to bed, the first thing he did was call Anna.  She picked up on the third ring, voice still weak and hoarse.

“This had better be good Castiel,” she growled, any threat neutralized by the hacking cough that followed, “My flu has evolved into a sinus infection and I had just managed to get to sleep.”

“My apologies,” Castiel said earnestly, “It’s just…I have a date with Dean Winchester.”

There was a long pause on the other line.  Castiel gripped the phone tightly to steady his weak knees.

“I take back all my threats from earlier,” Anna said finally, “Castiel this is wonderful!  How do you feel?”

“I think I’m about to start hyperventilating,” Castiel admitted.  Anna laughed on the other end of the line, which resulted in a long coughing fit. 

“Brother,” she began after her hacking subsided, “You need to relax and enjoy the moment.”

“But what do I do, Anna?” Castiel asked nervously, “What do I wear?  How do I-“

“Castiel,” Anna cut him off firmly, “Calm the fuck down.”  Castiel stopped his babbling, taking a few deep breaths. 

“I haven’t felt this way…been on a ‘date’…since…” Castiel whispered, his voice trailing off helplessly. 

“Since Meg,” Anna finished for him, “Castiel, it’s good for you to feel this way.  It means you’re finally ready to move on.  You’re ready for something good.”

“I have something good,” Castiel insisted, “I have you, and I have Samandriel.”

“But Samandriel and I can’t be your other half,” Anna said gently, “We can’t take you out to dinner and hold your hand under the table, or kiss you just because you look stressed.  You need someone like that Castiel.  You don’t realize it, but you do.  And Dean Winchester would be the luckiest man in the world if he wound up being the one to do those things for you.”

“Thank you Anna,” Castiel breathed, then, “I’m so excited.  I’m so excited I don’t even know what to do.”

“That’s the way it should be,” Anna said sleepily, “Now let me sleep.  You can call me in two days when my fever’s broken and we can talk about outfits and etiquette and all of those things.”

“Alright, sleep well,” Castiel said before hanging up the phone.  He leaned against the wall in the dimly lit kitchen, still in his coat, still feeling the trails of electricity where Dean’s fingertips had brushed his skin and his lips had caressed his own.  _I kissed Dean Winchester.  Dean Winchester kissed me back.  We are going on a date next week._  Castiel repeated these facts to himself over and over, certain he had imagined them.  His hands were shaking, and his lips were swollen.  He had forgotten this feeling.  As he smiled and shook in the dark kitchen, Castiel finally remembered.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the short update! More coming soon. I love and adore all your comments!


	6. The Wait

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel is impatient.

The week moved at a crawl.  Castiel thought he was going to lose his mind before Friday night arrived.  The only light in the darkness was Thursday, which he spent volunteering in Dean’s classroom, as usual.  They were professional, of course.  This was Dean’s job, and Samandriel’s class, and Castiel didn’t want to be a distraction.  But throughout the morning Dean and Castiel found themselves accidentally bumping into each other, or their hands brushing as they both reached for the same pair of safety scissors, and once Dean _absolutely_ had to place a hand on the small of Castiel’s back as he pulled a tub of manipulatives down from a high shelf, or Castiel was certain he would have lost his balance. 

“What should we do?” Dean asked as he walked Castiel to the door at the end of the day, “Where do you like to go?  What do you like to eat?”

“Cheeseburgers,” Castiel said honestly, “They’re my absolute favorite.”

Dean laughed, full and loud before quieting himself as the kids stirred on their nap mats.

“Honest to God?” he asked, green eyes sparkling.

“I try and set a good nutritional example for Samandriel,” Castiel said, “So I don’t get to eat them very often.”

“I’ll remember that,” Dean said, staring at Castiel eagerly, “Can I pick you up?  Is seven ok?”

“Yes, seven is great,” Castiel assured him.  Dean looked uncertain for a minute, looking to make sure all his kids were asleep before reaching out to grab Castiel’s hand, lacing their fingers together with a squeeze before releasing him just as quickly.  Castiel looked away shyly, a grin he couldn’t hide spreading across his face. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow night,” Dean murmured, eyes bright and locked on Castiel. 

“I’ll see you then,” Cas breathed, pulse fluttering.


	7. Dinner and a Movie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Cas go on a real date.

Castiel was practically twitching by the time seven rolled around, fidgeting nervously with his blue tie until it hung crooked in his collar.  Anna straightened it for him with a disapproving look.

“You’ve got my number, and Dean’s emergency school contact-“

“We’ll be fine, Castiel.”

“And if Samandriel has a nightmare, just read him the Chrysanthemum book-if it doesn’t work I can come home, it’s no problem-“

“It’ll be just fine, brother.”

“And if he gets sick, or you feel like you may have a relapse you can just-“

“Castiel.”  Castiel stilled his tongue, giving a contrite smile to his patient sister.  Anna kissed him on the cheek, dusting off the shoulders of his trench coat.

“Have a good time,” she told him sternly, “And don’t worry about us.”

“I will,” Castiel promised, and a car horn sounded from the driveway.  Castiel felt his heart speed up in his chest, and he looked at Anna with half excitement half panic. 

“That’s your ride,” she said, practically pushing him out the front door, where a handsome car purred on the curb, with an even more handsome preschool teacher leaning against the black and chrome doors.  At the sight of Dean Winchester, the panic that had been beating a tattoo on Castiel’s ribs vanished, and it was all he could do not to run down the driveway.

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel said when they finally came face to face.  Dean stepped forward cautiously, and without hesitating Castiel leaned up and kissed him, sliding their lips together tantalizingly before stepping back again.  Dean’s eyes fluttered shut, and his hands skimmed the front of Castiel’s coat as his mouth tried to follow Castiel’s as he leaned back again.  Castiel laughed, and Dean opened his eyes, blushing like a high schooler picking up his prom date. 

“Hey Cas,” Dean said weakly, hands still fiddling with the front of Castiel’s trench coat, “Ready?”

“Ready.”  Castiel confirmed, and slipped into the car’s passenger side while Dean held the door for him.

“So where are we going?” Castiel asked curiously as Dean pulled the driver’s side door shut and revved the engine.  Dean grinned, and Castiel felt his mouth water for something besides dinner, their recent kiss still fresh on his lips.

“I know a great diner not too far,” Dean said, “Best burgers in the state.  And then I thought, maybe-and if you think it’s lame we don’t have to go-“

“What, Dean?” Castiel prodded.  He highly doubted there was anywhere he wouldn’t let this man drive him tonight.

“Well the drive-in is showing all black and white horror tonight, and I thought it might be fun,” Dean said nervously, “Like I said, if you’re not into it we can do something else-“

“Do you think they’ll show any James Whale?” Castiel asked eagerly.  Dean laughed, the tension easing from his shoulders.

“Well it wouldn’t be a classic horror marathon if they didn’t,” he said, “Let’s get going, I’m starved.”

* * *

 

When they pulled up to the diner, Castiel thought for a moment that he had gotten into the wrong car and that this was in fact some kind of shapeshifter Dean who had taken him to this extremely dubious looking concrete warehouse block in order to murder him violently.  Castiel then proceeded to scold himself for being paranoid, and reminded himself to reflect later on the fact that he had generated that very specific and disturbing scenario so quickly.  He had to admit though, the neighborhood seemed a little rundown for somewhere to take a first date.  Dean saw his uncertainty and laughed out loud.

“I know that look,” Dean told him, “And no, we are not about to reenact the plot of one of those ‘my date is a psychopath’ Lifetime movies.”

“I trust you,” Castiel said quickly, “You have been here before, right?”

“At least once a week,” Dean assured him, “Me ‘n Sam and Bobby Singer come here all the time.”

“Bobby Singer?” Castiel asked, “As in Principal Singer?” Castiel had only met the man once, and he hadn’t seemed the diner frequenting type, with his stark suit and gruff manner.

“Yeah, he’s a family friend,” Dean said, “Anyways, his buddy Rufus owns the place.  Neurotic as all get out, but like I said, you’ll never eat a better burger.”   Now that he looked closer, Castiel could make out a flickering neon sign that read “Turner’s” blinking cheerfully in the dim light. 

“Just wait ‘til we get out of the car,” Dean whispered, “You’ll know we’re in the right place.”

Dean was correct.  As soon as Castiel stepped out into the cool summer air, he was immediately taken with the heavenly aroma of sizzling beef and hot, crispy fries.  His stomach growled in interest and he looked at Dean in wonder.  Dean shrugged.

“I told you,” he said as they made their way inside.  The interior of the diner was actually quite bright, and bustling with customers, who smiled and chatted to the low hum of the classic blues that emanated from a set of speakers on the front counter.  A weathered voice called out to them from the kitchen window.

“Dean Winchester!  Where were you last Tuesday, son?”

“Hiya Rufus,” Dean called back, “I had a faculty meeting, you know that.”

“Poor excuse for missing family dinner in my opinion,” A lanky older man emerged from the kitchen to shake Dean’s hand, his smile bright and friendly against his rich dark skin. 

“Next time,” Dean promised, then turning to Cas, “Castiel this is Rufus, one of Bobby’s best friends and the man who first taught me to appreciate food.  Rufus this is-“

“Oh I know who you are,” Rufus said with a grin as he gave Castiel’s hand a rough shake, “Ellen and Bobby told me all about it.  Pleasure to meet you Castiel.”

“And you,” Castiel replied.

“What exactly were Bobby and Ellen sayin’?” Dean asked, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“Well you weren’t here to prove ‘em wrong, now were you kid? That’s what you get,”  Rufus said, a wicked glint in his eye as Dean swore under his breath about nosy old people, then to Castiel, “You keep this boy from mopin’ all over the place, ya hear?”

“Yes sir,” Castiel said, enjoying the man’s directness, “It was nice to meet you.”

“Y’all can take the usual booth,” Rufus said with a wave of his hand, “Jody’ll be over in a minute to take care of you.  I gotta get back to the kitchen.”

“Good to see you Rufus,” Dean said. 

“Enjoy your night,” he said with a lewd wink before returning to the steaming kitchen.  Dean shook his head in exasperation before leading Castiel over to a comfortable corner booth, the worn leather giving easily as he sat down.

“Can I trust you to order for us both?” Castiel asked as they flipped through worn menus, “I can’t seem to make much sense of the specials here.”

“I’ll try not to let you down,” Dean said as a server approached their table.

“You haven’t yet,” Castiel said lightly, peeking at Dean over the plastic coated menu.

“What can I get you boys?” A motherly waiter asked in a classic Kansas drawl.  Castiel watched Dean give his most charming smile, setting a little flutter in his chest. 

“Ma’am I believe my friend and I are both gonna have the bacon cheddar burger with the works,” he said, and with a quick glance at the specials board, “Also, two slices of that apple pie you make so well.”

The waitress melted under Dean’s charms and their orders were out in minutes, Dean’s chatter with their server causing Castiel to chuckle under his breath. 

“What?” Dean asked him as the waitress went to tend to her other tables.  Castiel shook his head as he gathered his burger in his hands, mouth watering. 

“It is not of import,” Castiel said, taking a bold bite, “Only, when you talk to locals, I can hear your Midwestern accent more clearly.”  Dean flushed, munching on a fry. 

“They tend to train it out of you when you get your Master’s degree in childhood literacy,” he said, then flirtatiously, “Why, you like my twang, Cas?”

 “Yes,” Castiel answered honestly, “I find it very attractive.”

“You talk like you swallowed a dictionary,” Dean mused, leaning his head on hand to gaze across the table at Castiel.  Castiel tilted his head in pleased confusion.

“Was that a flirtation?” he asked, a smile tugging at his lips.

“Yes,” Dean answered, in a deliberate impersonation of Castiel’s lower voice, “I find it very attractive.”

Castiel gave a wry but amused twist of his mouth, which only caused Dean too look pleased with himself, coupling with the color in his cheeks to make him look younger than Castiel thought he had ever seen him.  A daring foot nudged against his under the table as Dean innocently took a bite of his burger.  Castiel returned his touch as they both ate in comfortable silence. 

* * *

 

“I’m tryin’ to be a gentleman here, Cas,” Dean said, exasperated.

“Dean, we’re both men, so I think that argument is rather defunct.”

“Hey, just because we’re both dudes doesn’t mean chivalry is dead,” Dean pouted, though it lacked any real animosity.

“I invited you out tonight,” Castiel insisted, “I would like to pay for both of us.”

Dean opened his mouth like he was about to argue, and Castiel quirked one eyebrow, deflating him instantly.

“Fine,” Dean said, “But I’m paying for the movie.”

“Deal,” Castiel agreed.  Dean grinned wickedly as Castiel fished out his wallet, a sly foot skimming up his pant leg causing him to fumble with the bills.

* * *

 

The drive-in was like something from a nineteen sixties teen romance movie, Dean pulling his classic car into a space with a perfect view of the massive screen at the end of the lot.  Dean suggested a snack pilgrimage, which Castiel found to be an excellent idea despite the very satisfying meal they had just eaten.  They made their way among the maze of parked cars and the spaces where people had laid out blankets and lawn chairs, to the concessions stand by the entrance.  They leaned on the slightly sticky countertop while the servers put together a big bucket of buttery popcorn and rattled boxes of candy as they pulled them from cupboards, Dean bumping his hip playfully against Castiel’s as they waited.  Soon, loaded for bear, they began the return journey to the waiting Impala. 

As they walked across the well tamped grass, Castiel couldn’t help but fall a step behind, admiring the fine figure of Dean Winchester.  This Dean was different from the one in the classroom, dark jeans and a worn leather jacket replacing the khaki’s and sweaters of Castiel’s memory, but somehow this Dean seemed equally right.  His shoulders were still strong, and his legs just a little crooked, and, as he turned to look back to tell Castiel to hurry or they would miss the opening credits, his eyes were still warm and inviting, with a smile that said “I’m gonna take care of you.”  Castiel couldn’t help but smile and increase his pace until they were side by side again, shoulders brushing as they made their way through the crowded lot, arms laden with snacks. 

They were soon nestled back in the warm interior of the Impala, and the just in time, as the movie crackled to life on the screen in front of them.  Dean fiddled with the radio station until the staticky sound settled into the old fashioned suspense score of _Frankenstein_.  The lights dimmed in the large parking lot at the action got underway.  Dean and Castiel munched on their popcorn and raisinettes, soaking in the pleasant, old fashioned atmosphere of the theatre.  

“You know, I didn’t see this movie for the first time until I was twenty-five,” Castiel divulged after a few scenes, causing Dean to stare at him in horror.

“What?” he gasped, “That is a tragedy, Mr. Novak.  A god damned tragedy.”

“I know,” Castiel agreed, taking a handful of Dean’s offered popcorn, “My father was very much into books, which of course benefited me greatly, but we didn’t even own a television.  I can count the number of movies I saw in theatres before I left home on one hand.”

“What brought you into the classic cinema light?” Dean asked, as lightning flashed on the screen in front of them, raising the monster from its slab. 

“After Meg died, I spent a lot of time at home alone,” Castiel admitted, “Out of boredom I purchased a Netflix account.”

“It must have blown your freakin’ mind,” Dean said.  Their voices were low, and the tinny soundtrack of the film filled the cab of the Impala.

“I’d had no clue what I was missing out on,” Castiel agreed, “I’d never understood most pop culture references.  Star Wars alone made me reevaluate most of the conversations I’d had in my lifetime.  I think at the end of six weeks I had covered about 300 films and it was like I was speaking an entirely new language.”  Dean nodded in understanding, and they watched the film silently for a few minutes, laughing occasionally at the melodramatic acting and dated special effects.  Castiel could feel a sort of weight on Dean, as if he was decided whether or not to share something.  Soon enough, he heard Dean speak again, softly.

“When Sam and I were little,” he began, “We used to have Star Wars quoting matches.  We would just go back and forth until we ran out of lines.  Every Han Solo quip, every badass Vader line.  It was our favorite movie.”  He paused, and Castiel waited patiently, letting Vincent Price and Boris Karloff fill the silence in the car. 

“It was…not the best time in our family,” Dean continued at last, “Our mom had just died, and my dad wasn’t handling it well.  Sammy was so little, not much older than Samandriel, and my dad would come home drunk and Sam just wouldn’t understand.  So I would make him dinner, pop A New Hope into the VHS player, and we would just watch while my dad slept it off.  By the time Bobby and Ellen figured out my dad needed real help, I figure we had those movies pretty much memorized.”  Castiel felt a kind of tightening in his chest as he listened to Dean reveal what he knew must have been a painful memory, keeping his tone light and matter of fact.  He delivered the ending like a punch line, with a casual shrug that was betrayed by the twist of sorrow in his eyes that Castiel could see even in the uneven lights of the drive-in lot.  There was so much alike in their stories, trying their best to care for their little brothers in difficult circumstances.  Castiel couldn’t wait until Samandriel was old enough to enjoy the movies he had come to love, and a small part of him was already hoping that Dean would be there to share the moment with him, to add good memories to these bittersweet ones he had so courageously revealed.   

They realized at the same time how long they had been staring at each other, lost in thought, and Dean smirked, leaning into Castiel’s space.  He kissed him once, mouth warm and firm, before directing his attention back to the screen.

“If we keep swapping sad stories we’re gonna miss the best part,” he whispered, kissing Castiel’s temple before returning his eyes to the black and white images in front of them.

“I’m glad we did though,” Castiel whispered back, not looking at Dean.

“Me too,” Dean agreed, with a playful nudge.

Given the reputation of drive-in theatres he remembered from his high school days, Castiel had expected Dean to be more forward in his affections.  Make some moves, as they say.  Instead Castiel was pleasantly surprised by the quiet intimacies Dean chose to initiate.  A cautious brush of his hair when Dean noticed it falling in his eyes.  A quick stroke of his hand along Castiel’s forearm when he ventured to rest a hand on Dean’s knee, tracing the fingers that rested easily against the rough denim.  Castiel felt…not fragile…but treasured.  These were not the fantasies of his wet dreams, waking sweaty and gasping in the night, but the pleasant daydreams of Tuesday afternoons; the small touches he longed for that distracted him from the manuscripts in his inbox that awaited his attention.  The car was warm and intimate, but not steamy.  There would be time for that later.  Castiel couldn’t help but feel, as he stared at Dean Winchester in the dim light of the front seat, that for once they really had all the time they wanted.  It sent something like a shiver through him, and if this caused Dean to feel the need to throw an arm around Castiel’s shoulders in order to ward off the chill of the early summer night, well Castiel certainly had no objection.

The movie passed too quickly, between pleasant silences and Dean’s amusing Boris Karloff impressions.  Castiel, as usual, felt a pang of sympathy for the monster in the final scenes, and a squeeze of Dean’s arm around his shoulder assured him he was not alone.  As the credits rolled, Castiel looked up just as Dean looked down, and just like that they were kissing again.  It was a slow, sensuous thing that asked nothing more; it was a wish, a promise in the form of sliding lips and soft, open mouths.  Dean’s arm still around his shoulder, Castiel tangled their fingers against the rough material of his coat, his thumb stroking along the palm of Dean’s hand as their tongues made a first curious touch, light and buzzy.  Dean smiled into the kiss as Castiel’s stubble tickled at his skin, backing away to give him a dazzling grin.  Castiel’s blood sang in his veins as his heart raced.  Dean placed a kiss on Castiel’s forehead, then the sharp angle of each cheekbone, and finally once more on Castiel’s mouth before releasing him, starting the car with a flush on his cheeks and a secret smile. 

“Let’s get you home safe to your brother,” he said, and they pulled out of the parking lot, hands tangled between them in the front seat.  Castiel couldn’t remember being this happy since Samandriel had taken his first steps.  Dean’s hand was warm around his, and Castiel itched for just a _little_ more than the chaste kiss they had shared. 

* * *

 

As they pulled into Castiel’s driveway, Dean looked over to see Cas typing something quickly into his phone.

“Important message?” Dean asked, going by the look of intense concentration on Cas’ face. 

“Anna.  I’ve asked her to give us ten more minutes,” Castiel said briskly, then suddenly, “Do these seats recline?”

“Uh, no,” Dean answered a little confused by the non sequitor.  Cas looked mildly disappointed.

“Pity,” he said, “I suppose we will just have to think critically.”  Castiel grabbed Dean by the front of his jacket, pulling him into an eager kiss.  Arranging himself with his back to the window, Cas slid down in his seat until Dean was basically on top of him, their feet tangling under the steering wheel.

“I like the way you think,” Dean managed to get out between the slide of their lips, adjusting himself to fit more comfortably against Castiel.  Cas bent his knees, allowing Dean to settle between the V of his legs.  Dean hadn’t planned on pushing for any kind of action tonight.  It was their first date and Dean wanted Castiel to be absolutely comfortable.  But Cas seemed pretty comfortable laid out on the front seat of the Impala, and Dean had zero objections on his end.

“I try,” Cas answered, slipping daring hands inside the folds of Dean’s leather jacket to trace the muscles of his back over the thin fabric of his t-shirt, sending a tingle across Dean’s skin, “Just don’t-mm- kick the car horn.  Samandriel is most likely asleep.”

Dean flicked a tentative tongue against Cas’ bottom lip before pulling back to look at him with a grin. 

“You,” Dean said, arching into Castiel’s exploring touches, “Are an awesome parent.  Also…sexy.”

Cas gave a self deprecating laugh as Dean returned his lips to the man’s skin.  “You think so?”

Dean dragged his mouth up the ridge of Castiel’s Adam’s apple.   “Amazing.”  He sucked a light mark into Castiel’s jaw.  “Gorgeous.”  He leaned forward to whisper in his ear.  “Sexy.”

Castiel caught Dean’s mouth with his own, his tongue probing as his hands bunched the fabric of Dean’s t-shirt under the generous material of his jacket.  Dean smiled into the kiss, matching Cas stroke for stroke as he did some touching of his own, pulling Cas’ tie, already askew, until it hung useless and loose against his chest.  The first few buttons of Cas’ white shirt parted under his fingers with ease, and suddenly Dean had a whole new expanse of warm soft skin that demanded his attention.  The first open mouthed kiss at the juncture of Castiel’s neck and shoulder drew a pleased gasp from the man, and Dean couldn’t help but bring the slight nip of teeth into the equation.  Castiel’s fingers dug into the muscle of Dean’s back, dragging down to the base of his spine as Cas gave a sharp sound.

“Was that alright?” Dean asked in concern as his mouth moved to taste the small dip at the base of Cas’ throat.  All fantasies aside, he didn’t know what Castiel would actually _like_.

“That was _fantastic_ ,” Castiel said, hands sliding under the hem of Dean’s t-shirt to skim over the small of Dean’s back, “More please.”  Dean rested on his elbows in the cramped car seat, getting his mouth anywhere on Castiel he could reach.  Soon Castiel’s neck and chest were a map of fading red marks and shiny damp patched where Dean had lathed over a hickey with his tongue.  Castiel periodically yanked Dean’s mouth back up to his own, with an authority that excited Dean in more ways than one.  They were both starting to roll their hips, and the pressure against Dean’s thigh told him he was definitely not the only one at full attention here.  Dean briefly considered attempting to suck Cas off in the remaining four minutes before their time was up, but decided that that would be an activity best left for a more leisurely evening.  Instead he just gave his pelvis a firm downward pressure, Castiel’s hand groping at his ass eagerly as their chests pressed flush and their mouths mingled.  Christ, Cas had a fucking beautiful body.  He was muscled but not bulky, slim but not bony, and his god damned _hands_ , sliding all over the skin of Dean’s back like he was conducting symphony.  It was with deep regret that they eventually slowed their kisses, and their hands stilled against one another.  Dean couldn’t help but continue to press soft kisses against Castiel’s face, his piercing eyes unblinking and dark with arousal, but his mouth slack and beatific. 

“I should head inside,” Castiel said with something like remorse, petting a hand through Dean’s hair as they still lay in the front seat.  Dean laid one final kiss against Cas’ sternum before sitting up a groan and a crick in his back.  Castiel followed him up, hands still reaching for him, as though he wasn’t quite ready to let go.

“Say goodnight to Sam for me,” Dean said, trying to get comfortable in his seat despite still being half hard.  Castiel leaned in, kissing Dean one more time, long and slow.  Dean thought he could probably spend the rest of his life in a kiss like that, no problem.

“I had a wonderful evening,” Castiel told him once they parted. Dean smiled. 

“Me too-” he began, but Cas cut him off with a soft kiss.

“I also want you to know,” he continued, “That if I didn’t have a three-year-old waiting for me inside, we would have without a doubt had intercourse tonight.  Thank you.”  Dean’s jaw dropped as Castiel got out of the car, shirt and tie still tantalizingly askew.  He leaned against the window, smiling a half smile with kiss swollen lips, and _damn_ Dean had his jerking off material for the next week at least. 

“We should do this again,” Cas said, “Soon.”

“Yes.” Dean said eagerly, voice almost cracking, “As soon as possible.”

Castiel smiled and stepped away from the window.  “I’ll see you on Thursday.”

“Goodnight Cas,” Dean said before pulling out of Castiel’s driveway.  He peeked in the rearview mirror to see Cas was still staring after him, his fingers on his mouth and his eyes full of something like wonder.  Dean had a feeling if he looked in the mirror his face wouldn’t be much different.  Holy shit.  A new kind of excitement fluttered in his chest, and he drove back to his apartment in the darkness feeling happier than he could ever remember.

 


	8. Afterglow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel tells Anna about his date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short update! more on the way!

Castiel practically stumbled into the house, drunk off of kissing and Dean Winchester.  Anna waited for him in the hallway with her arms crossed, caught somewhere between concern and amusement. 

 “It looks like someone made it to second base,” Anna observed with a raised eyebrow.  With a start Castiel realized that his tie and the top half of his shirt were still undone. 

“I don’t understand that reference,” he muttered, buttoning his white oxford and slipping off his coat to hang on its customary hook, “How is Samandriel?”

“Asleep, just how you left him,” Anna assured him, “How was your night?  Besides the obvious, I mean.”

Castiel rested his forehead against the cool wall of the entryway until his heart finally settled down to a more regular rate, and a worn out laugh bubbled up from his throat.  His shoulders shook and his jaw hurt from smiling.

“It was perfect,” he answered his sister at last, “It was one of the most wonderful nights of my life.”  Anna just leaned against the doorway, rubbing an affectionate hand between Castiel’s shoulder blades. 

“He told me I was sexy,” Castiel whispered, almost to himself, though Anna gave him a tired smile, “He told me I was a great parent, and then he told me I was sexy.”

“Dean seems like a smart man,” Anna said, and Castiel smiled bashfully.

“He is,” Castiel agreed, “And kind.  And he’s also _excellent_ at kissing-“

“Alright! That’s more than enough information for me,” Anna said with a playful shove.  Castiel ducked her attempt at violence and gathered his sister into a tight hug, spinning her around as she shrieked in laughter before quieting herself, remembering Samandriel.   

“Thank you Anna,” Castiel whispered into her bright red hair, “Thank you for your help.”

“Don’t worry brother,” Anna assured him, stepping back to get her coat, “When I’m raising a baby by myself and need to go on a date, you’ll be the one covering for _me_.”

“I’ll remember this debt,” Castiel vowed with a laugh as he saw her to the door.  Once Anna was safely to her car, he went upstairs to check on Samandriel.  As Anna had promised his brother was sound asleep, tucked safely into his racecar bed. 

“Sleep well little brother,” he whispered before closing the door softly.  Castiel made his way to his own room, where after a quick shower he fell into bed, asleep in no time.  He slept heavy and deep, and dreamed of salty movie snacks, classic black cars, and Dean’s plush mouth on his skin. 


	9. Lions and Tigers and Bears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Against his better judgement, Dean goes to the zoo with Cas and Samandriel. It dredges up some insecurities Dean was hoping to avoid.

Dean was at the zoo.  This had gotten out of control fast. 

“Come with us,” Castiel had invited, somewhat on impulse, Dean figured. 

“I dunno Cas,” Dean had answered reluctantly, “I don’t want things to be confusing for Sam.  There’s boundaries I don’t want to cross.”

“I’m not asking you to,” Castiel said quickly, “We can be subtle.  I just…I’d like to see you this weekend, and I know Samandriel is comfortable around you.”

“I’d like to see you to,” Dean agreed, though Cas could still sense his hesitation.  He slipped a small card into Dean’s shirt pocket as they stood in the door of Dean’s classroom.

“I don’t want to pressure you,” Castiel murmured, “That is my phone number.  You can send me a text message if you would like to come, and we can meet you there, as if on accident.  I think it could be a nice afternoon.”  The hope in Castiel’s face, as well as the tingling where his fingers had brushed Dean’s thin dress shirt told Dean it probably would be a great afternoon, but he couldn’t stop the teacher rule-book alarm bells from sounding from somewhere in the back of his head. 

“I’ll think about it,” Dean promised, “And either way I’ll call you soon.”

And of course, after three days of internal conflict, here he was, waiting to meet Cas and Samandriel at the tiger exhibit.  “One date and you’re already whipped,” Sam had told him, laughing.  Dean sighed.  Sam was probably right, and he should have listened to his instincts, but the thought of seeing Castiel again, even in a G rated scenario, had proved too tempting.

“Mr. Winchester?”  Dean turned to see a very surprised Samandriel leading his big brother by the hand.  Castiel gave Dean a secretive smile, which Dean returned before addressing his student.

“Hey Sammie,” Dean said, using the name Samandriel had taken to being called by his friends, “Good to see you buddy.”

“How come you’re not at school?” Samandriel asked, brow knit in confusion, which only made Dean laugh.

“It’s Saturday,” Dean told him, “Teacher’s get days off too, you know.”

Samandriel looked as if he wasn’t sure he believed Dean, but when Castiel confirmed that teacher’s don’t in fact live at school he seemed satisfied. 

“What are you doing at the zoo?”

“Me?  I’m here to see the lions and tigers,” Dean said seriously, “Bears too.”

“We’re here to see the polar bears, and the elephants,” Samandriel informed him, “Just like the book.”

“You liked that one, huh?” Dean grinned at the boy.  They had just finished their unit on plants and animals, and Dean had busted out the Eric Carle.  _Polar Bear Polar Bear_ had proved to be a class favorite, especially for Sam, who buy the end of the week had been able to tell all the animals in the story from memory.

“It’s my favorite.  Are you here with your brother too?” Samandriel asked, looking around the other Winchester.

“Sam couldn’t make it,” Dean fibbed, “So I’m here on my own today.  Hey, do you think I could walk around with you and your brother for a little while?”  Samandriel’s eyes lit up.

“Can Mr. Winchester come with us, Castiel?” Samandriel asked his brother, and Dean tossed Cas a sly wink.

“Of course,” Castiel said, his voice warm, his eyes on Dean.

“Yes!” Samandriel cheered, before throwing his arms around Dean’s neck in a hug.  Dean held stock still, surprised by the show of affection, and he looked up to see Castiel’s face an equal mask of surprise, but also colored with something pleased as Dean carefully returned the boy’s embrace.  Samandriel let go, to reach for Dean’s hand as he stood up.  He grabbed Castiel’s as well, and with the insistence that the tigers were _this_ way, led them both closer to the big cat exhibit.

 They made their way past the large enclosures, stopping for a few minutes every couple of feet to try and spy one of the tigers hiding in the lush jungle greenery.   It was Cas who spotted one eventually, and Dean helped Samandriel balance on the low rock wall that surrounded the fence so the small boy could peek over the guard rail and see the sleek predator, his bright orange fur giving him away among the green bushes and trees.  The tiger examined its audience critically, tail flicking to and fro.  Samandriel waved at the big cat, then yelped when the tiger actually twitched its head in his direction, sniffing the air curiously.

“Careful,” Dean warned playfully, “Looks like the big guy thinks you’d make a tasty snack.”

“You wouldn’t let it eat me, would you?” Samandriel asked, gripping Dean’s hand tightly. 

“Nah, me and Castiel would fight him off, right?” Dean asked Cas, who raised his eyebrows.   

“I don’t know, he seems quite friendly,” Castiel deadpanned, “I thought maybe we should invite him for dinner next week.  Anna would love it.”  Samandriel’s eyes got big and round before Dean cracked up, Castiel split a grin as well.

“You’re teasing!” Samandriel accused him, face screwed up into a mock pout.  Castiel just laughed and scooped him up, balancing Samandriel on his hip.

“Yes, I am definitely teasing,” Cas agreed, “Now I thought we were here to see the polar bears?”

“Yes!” Samandriel declared, and off they went in search of the arctic animals.

By way of the leopards, the monkeys, and the penguins, they eventually stumbled upon the polar bear enclosure, and, at least in Samandriel’s opinion, it had definitely been worth the wait.  The exhibit had walkways that submerged into the ground to reveal massive glass windows that exposed the underwater portion of the polar bear environment.  One particularly social bear was swimming in front of the windows, occasionally bumping his nose against the glass, much to the delight of his audience.  Samandriel squealed in excitement as the huge animal touched the glass with his paw where the little boy had just placed his hand.  Dean, who spent a lot of time with cute kids, had to admit was one of the most freakin’ adorable things he had ever seen.   

“I’m glad you came,” Castiel said quietly as Samandriel gaped at the bear on the other side of the glass.

“Me too,” Dean told him, and he had to admit it was true.  It was a little weird, but being with Cas was like basking in a warm light.

Over the years, Dean had heard several of his female co-workers comment that there was nothing more attractive than a man who knew how to take care of a baby.  Dean usually laughed these comments off, but watching Castiel guide Sam from window to window, lifting him up to help him see, gentle but firm in his corrections, Dean had to admit they had a point.  There was something so paternal, so protective, in Castiel’s stance.  It awoke some domestic instinct in Dean, one that wanted both to shelter and be sheltered.  It was kind of scary, but also inviting.  Dean found himself reaching out to touch when he thought Samandriel couldn’t see, brushing his fingers along Cas’ back, or bumping their shoulders together.  Cas, for all his warning glares as they strolled through the enclosures, seemed to be emboldened by these touches, and as they sank into the dim light of the reptile house _somebody_ groped his ass before walking ahead to show their little brother an iguana lounging in the artificial sunlight.

It was crowded in the hallway, lights dim to accommodate the nocturnal species.  Maybe it was the close press of people around them, or the hushed voices as kids and adults peeked through the glass windows, but Dean suddenly felt self-conscious as he made to catch up with Cas. 

Dean caught the glances of a few women, who smiled at him before whispering something to their friends as they led their children through the purple blacklit exhibits.  He saw more than one kid point at him and Cas and Sam, asking their parent something before being quickly shushed.  A few fathers just gave him a look of exasperation as their child dragged them through the hallway, as if to say _it’s exhausting, but we love ‘em, am I right?_

People think we’re a family, Dean realized with a start as they made their way through the reptile house.  Those women think Samandriel is another adopted baby with two dads.  He tried to process this information, emotions warring.  Did Samandriel look like his kid?  Did Cas look like his _partner_?  They’d barely touched each other the entire day, trying not to clue Samandriel in to their afterschool activities, but apparently they gave off some kind of couple vibe because at least five different people were giving them looks right now, ranging from the “ew gross” to the “aww gay dads!” and Dean was starting to feel a little twitchy.  He looked to Castiel, who was lifting up a fascinated Samandriel so he could get a better view of the scaly lizards hiding in their glass cases.  There was barely a foot of space between them, and for some reason in that moment it seemed very important that Dean either move closer and help Castiel, or move away, and emphasize the distance, but Dean found himself rooted to the spot.  Dean was at the zoo, being mistaken for one of his student’s _parents_.  He tried to get a grip on the feelings that were tangling around that thought, failing to restrain the excitement and pride that was battling tooth and nail with the anxiety and doubt.  No, he asserted, tamping down on the knot of emotion.  This was not his family.  Samandriel was his _student,_ and Cas was his…something.  Something that was much better than friend but _way_ too soon to be called partner.

“Dean,” Dean’s Something nudged his shoulder, startling him from his internal dialogue, “Are you alright?”  Dean shook his head rapidly, Castiel staring at him in amused concern.

“Sorry,” Dean said with an uneasy smile, “All these lizards give me the heebie jeebies.”

Castiel laughed at Dean’s lie, catching Samadandriel’s hand before the little boy could wander too far.

“We should go back outside anyway,” Castiel said, “I know Samandriel would like to ride the carousel before we go to see the elephants.”

 “Elephants!” Samandriel chorused, swinging against Cas’ hand.

They emerged into the bright afternoon light, and soon came upon a kind of midway, with food courts and a few kiddie rides.  Castiel led them to one of the rides for small kids, with cars shaped like lions and tigers, though of course Samandriel elected to ride in the polar bear car.  Dean waited by the cheap aluminum guardrail while Cas helped Samandriel strap himself in.

“Are you sure you’re alright on your own?” he heard Castiel ask his little brother.  Samandriel just shooed Cas away, making sure he was still watching so he could wave as the cars started to move in a slow rotation.

“He’s growing up good,” Dean commented as Samandriel waved at them from the car, “He’s talking a lot more than when he first got here, and he’s more independent.”

“It’s incredible,” Cas agreed, “A few months ago he would have been afraid to go on this ride by himself.”

“He has a good brother teaching him how to be brave,” Dean said, nudging Castiel where he stood by his side.

“And a good teacher.  You’ve made a big difference in his life,” Castiel told him, then more quietly, “And in mine.”

Dean didn’t really know how to answer that, except to wind their fingers together where they hung by their sides, giving a quick squeeze.  Take it easy Winchester, he coaxed himself, trying to quell the rising panic in his chest.  Feel the good feelings.  Ignore the insecurities.  This is Cas.  Gorgeous, amazing, sexy Cas. 

After a few minutes the carousel came to a stop and Samandriel bounded back out through the gate with the declaration that he was thirsty _and_ hungry.

“Can I get a soda?” he asked his brother hopefully.  Castiel squinted doubtfully, but at the heartbroken look on Samandriel’s face he caved. 

“Alright, but only a small one,” Cas told him.  Dean spotted a booth not too far that was selling drinks.

“Hey I’m thirsty too,” he offered, “Why don’t I take Sammie and get a drink, and you can pick out a snack for the two of you?”

“If you’re comfortable, that’s fine,” Castiel agreed, “Perhaps I’ll see if I can purchase a soft pretzel.”

“Can we get the cinnamon kind?” Samandriel piped up.  Castiel just shook his head in exasperation.

“Alright little man,” Dean said, distracting him, “Let’s go get a drink.  I’m parched.”

Dean led Samandriel by the hand, keeping his walk at the little boy’s pace as they made their way to the soda stand.  After much deliberation, root beer was selected as the beverage of choice, and Dean winked at the salesgirl as he asked for an extra cup to make it easier for Samandriel to drink.  She gave Dean another one of those sappy “You’re taking such good care of your kid” looks that left Dean with an unsettling feeling in the back of his mind.  Of course, things got even better as they turned back to find Cas again. 

“Mr. Winchester?” 

“Yeah Sam?” Dean looked down to the little boy, who was eyeing him curiously as he carefully carried his bottle of soda.

“When I was on the polar bear ride, how come you and Castiel were holding hands?” Samandriel asked Dean brightly.  _Oh shit._  

“What?!”  Dean’s voice came out as more of a squeak than an actual question.   

“How come you were holding hands? Was it so you wouldn’t get lost?” Samandriel continued, “Like how we hold hands at school when we cross the street?”

“Um…”  What should he tell him?  Was it his place to tell Samandriel anything?  What even were they?  Dating?  Boyfriends?  Both of those words sounded cheap to describe what he felt about Cas, and yet both were also terrifying.  How did you explain four months of pining, one real date, and an amazing makeout session to a three year old?  If Dean weren’t already Samandriel’s teacher he wouldn’t even be having this conversation.  Castiel would never trust someone with Samandriel like this, but if anything went wrong, how could Cas ever trust Dean with Samandriel in a classroom?  Right now, was Dean being Samandriel’s teacher, or Castiel’s date?   Already just the thought of Samandriel explaining this day to his friends at school made Dean’s stomach drop.  Dean wasn’t ready to explain himself to a room full of three-year-olds, let alone all their parents.  Dean didn’t even have an explanation for Samandriel.

Dean walked Samandriel back to where Castiel was waiting, his stomach churning, his thoughts clouded.  What was he doing?  He was supposed to be this kid's teacher, and he was messing around with his guardian like it was no big deal.  Suddenly the warmth in Castiel's eye's as he caught sight of their approach felt more like a blade of ice in his gut.  Dean's face must have betrayed his unease, because Cas' expression turned to one of concern.

"Is everything alright?" he asked as he picked Samandriel up, the little boy already craning his neck over Cas' shoulder too see what the next animal would be. 

"Yeah," Dean said, a little too quickly, "I just..uh I gotta get going.  It's getting late and I have to write lesson plans still."

"You're not coming to see the elephants Mr. Winchester?" Samandriel looked at him with disappointment.

"Nah little man, I have to get ready for school," Dean said, "But I'll see you bright and early tomorrow, ok?"

"Ok.  Come on Castiel!" Samandriel squirmed until Cas put him down, dragging him by the hand toward the next exhibit, though Castiel was still looking at Dean, his brow furrowed.

"Alright Samandriel," Cas acquiesced, then to Dean, "Are you sure everything's ok?"

"Yeah. Yeah, everything's fine," Dean said, "Just, uh, can I call you later?"

"Of course"  Castiel did not look reassured.  "Goodbye then...Mr. Winchester."

"Right. Uh...See you later," Dean said. He walked away quickly, the promise of that phone call a lead weight in his stomach.

* * *

 

“Hello?”

“Cas.  We can’t do this.”  The sinking feeling that had been following Castiel around all afternoon at the zoo reared its ugly head at the sound of Dean’s resigned tone.  Castiel left Samandriel napping in the living room to step into the kitchen, where he wouldn’t wake his brother. 

“What are you talking about?” he asked, already fully aware.  Castiel listened to Dean’s long intake of breath before he answered him. 

“I’m talking about Samandriel.” Dean’s voice was tinny through Castiel’s cell phone.  “I’m his teacher.”

“I think we’re all aware of that,” Castiel said in a weak attempt at levity. 

“He saw us today,” Dean continued, “Samandriel.  He saw us holding hands while he was on the carousel.  He asked me about it while we were walking to get a drink.”

“I know,” Castiel said, “He asked me about it as well.  After you left.”

“What did you tell him?” 

“I…I didn’t know what to tell him,” Castiel admitted, “What did you say?”

“What could I say Cas?” Dean asked him, “What even are we?  How can either of us explain this to a three-year-old when _we_ don’t even have a name for it yet?”

“Whatever it is, it’s good,” Cas said, “It isn’t worth throwing away over a few doubts.”

“This isn’t a few doubts,” Dean continued, his tone a little more heated, “This is my student’s welfare, which I have a responsibility to.”

“And I don’t?” Castiel raised his voice before quieting again, thinking of Samandriel in the other room, “Samandriel may be my brother, but he’s also my child, and he _always_ comes first.”

“I’m sorry, you know I didn’t mean it like that, but…this is exactly why we can’t do this to him,” Dean said, “I mean, how exactly was this gonna work?  Were you gonna keep calling me ‘Mr. Winchester’ when I’m laying on your couch drinking a beer every time Samandriel walks in the room?  How is he supposed to reconcile that with the person he knows at school?  It’s not fair to him, Cas.”

“What about what’s fair to us?” Castiel breathed.  Every word that Dean was saying was true, he just didn’t want to believe him.

“We both know too well that it’s never about us,” Dean said sadly, “Samandriel needs you.  All of you, right now.  And he needs Mr. Winchester.  But he doesn’t need me.  I’m a distraction.  _We’re_ a distraction.” 

“Dean-“

“We can still fix this,” Dean insisted, “Before it gets out of hand.  We have to.”

“Dean, it’s not broken,” Castiel pleaded, “Don’t give up on this.  Please.”

“I’m sorry, Cas,” was all Dean said before the line went dead.  Castiel let the phone fall to the counter, resting his head against the cool wood of the kitchen cabinets.  He stood rigid, his fists clenching and unclenching impotently against the formica countertop as he swallowed down the quiet sob that tried to escape his throat.  Why was this happening?  He had finally, _finally_ found someone worth opening up again for and now…

Eventually, with a long, shaky breath, Castiel stood back, and began moving around the kitchen as he gathered the ingredients for Samandriel’s lunch.    

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Thanks for reading. Bear with me, almost everything is written and should be up soon!


	10. Telephone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean finds breaking up harder than he expected.

For the first time in years, Dean wanted to get seriously drunk.  He hadn’t felt this way since he’d broken up with his last boyfriend-scratch that, his last _girlfriend_ , and Lord knows that had been long enough ago.  A real bar was out of the question.  Despite his muscle car and leather jacket oriented fashion tendencies, Dean tried to keep a clean image.  Knocking back whiskey in a dive bar didn’t give off the right vibe for a reputable preschool teacher.  Luckily, Dean kept an emergency bottle of Jack behind the sink.  He hadn’t busted it out since Ellen and Bobby’s last staff Christmas party, but he needed to get rid of the pain is his chest and the memory of Cas’ voice breaking in his ear.

He was nursing his third glass when his phone rang.  He scrambled for in his jacket pocket, cursing his cell for being so goddamned small and his hands for being clumsy.  On the third ring he managed to open it, answering before he checked the caller ID.

“Cas?” Dean asked hopefully, then mentally kicked himself.  You broke up with _him_ , moron.

“Cas?  No-it’s Sam- why are you- Dean!  She said yes!”  Dean’s head was a little woozy, and his brother’s exited babbling was really freakin’ difficult to decipher. 

“Sam! Slow down.  What’s happening?” Dean could hear his puppy of a brother take a few deep breaths to calm himself before starting again.

“Jess and I are getting married!”

“What?” Dean exclaimed, “Sam, that’s fucking awesome!  When-how-“

“This morning,” Sam told him, “Christ Dean I had this whole plan with a big dinner and flowers and everything , and then we were doing laundry this morning and suddenly I was down on one knee and then Jess was crying and I thought I fucked the whole thing up but now I’m engaged and everything’s great!”

“Holy shit,” Dean breathed, “You’re engaged.  My baby brother is engaged.  I’m officially old.”

“Jess is already talking about dates and colors,” Sam continued, “She’s telling her folks right now.”

“Whatever she wants Sammy, just nod and smile,” Dean advised, “Keep your head down and try on clothes when she tells you to.”

“I will! I mean, yeah,” Sam said, “Dean…you’ll be my best man, right?”

“You bet your ass,” Dean said, “Who else is gonna catch you when you pass out cold on the altar?”  Dean took another swig of whiskey, and Sam must have heard the sloshing or something because he went from giggly little brother to nosy little brother in about two point five seconds.   

“Dean, are you drunk?”

“Nooo,” Dean slurred, “I’m just happy.  You’re getting married!”

“Dean-“

“Listen,” Dean interrupted, “You’re my brother, and I love ya.  Don’t ruin the moment.  You manned up today, and I couldn’t be more proud.  Tomorrow you and I are going out, and we are gonna celebrate in true Winchester style.  Which means we’ll be taking a cab home, so prepare yourself mentally.”

“Ok, as long as you’re alright,” Sam said hesitantly, then “Dean, I’m so fucking happy.”

“That’s the way it should be Sammy,” Dean said, glancing wistfully around his empty apartment, “Now call Ellen and Bobby, or I’m gonna hear about it on Monday.”

“Yessir, I will!  I’m gonna call everybody!”  Dean smiled blearily as he hung up the phone.

Sam’s getting married.  That’s good.  It was good that Sam had Jess.  Sam had Jess and Dean…well at the moment Dean had Jack Daniels and that was the only man he needed.

 

* * *

 

 

It was Thursday morning.  It was the first Thursday since Dean called things off with Cas and even though he knew it was hopeless, even though he had read the note Samandriel had brought him earlier that week explaining that perhaps it was best if Mr. Novak didn’t come into class for a week or two, Dean couldn’t help but keep glancing to the door, waiting to see the blue eyes and weather inappropriate trench coat.  He could tell the kids were waiting for him too, and it broke his heart to see little Charlie asking Samandriel where his big brother was. 

“Your man is late,” Ellen commented, unaware of the gut punch her words sent through him.

“Uh…Mr. Novak’s not coming today,” Dean muttered, “I forgot to tell you.”  Ellen narrowed her eyes in suspicion.

“What did you do?” She asked him.

“I did the right thing,” Dean said, his voice certain even if his heart still wasn’t, “We were moving too fast, and Samandriel was already asking questions.  I…wasn’t ready to go there yet.”

“Did you _talk_ with the man about it?”

“Well I…” Dean was saved by the bell, literally, as the clock struck nine, which meant it was time for calendar, followed by centers.  Ellen waited until each kid had placed their Velcro marker on the center chart and started playing before cornering Dean again as they prepared the crafts for the day.  She kept her voice low so Andy and Kevin, who were playing nearby, wouldn’t hear. 

“So let me make sure I’ve got this straight,” Ellen said, “You got the inkling that you might be in your first real relationship since you got outta school, had a panic attack, and now you’re gonna be moping around for a month and I’m down the only volunteer we’ve got that has any sense in his head.”

“Hey, I am _not_ moping,” Dean retorted, “It wouldn’t have worked out anyway.  I would have messed something up, and even if I didn’t, I gotta be impartial in here, and I can’t do that if I’m going to the zoo with Samandriel and his brother every weekend.  I can’t have distractions.  My kids have to come first.”

“But these ain’t your kids, Dean!” Ellen told him, “You’ve got ‘em for a year and then they move on, so you can’t put your life on pause for them.  It’s ok to make sacrifices for your class, we all do it, but at the end of the day you’ve gotta have something outside this classroom.”

“Yeah I know.”

“Apparently you don’t,” Ellen continued, “You wanna know what I think?”

“I’m gonna hear it either way,” Dean grumbled as he shuffled through the refrigerator to pick out snack for the day.

“Damn straight.  Truth is,” Ellen told him, “I don’t think this is about your class.  I think this is about you.  You’re all worked up about what people are gonna think when they find out you aren’t just a charming bachelor waitin’ for the right girl to settle down with.”

“So what if I am?” Dean demanded, “You know how it is Ellen.  We could lose the program.”

“This ain’t somethin’ you gotta hide,” Ellen insisted, “Lord knows Bobby walked in on you and enough boys when you were growin’ up and he hasn’t fired you yet.”

“Bobby doesn’t have to fire me if I can’t get any kids in my room,” Dean muttered, but Ellen’s hand on his arm drew his attention.

“This ain’t the eighties, and we aren’t in high school,” Ellen said softly, “People are changin’, Dean.  You just gotta have a little faith.”

“Easier said than done,” was all Dean had to say.  Ellen sighed.

“Do what you want Winchester,” she said finally, “But there’s only so many years that you can watch these kids leave you before it makes you bitter.”  Dean had no rebuttal.  His throat was tight as he went to help Charlie and Bella clean up the blocks before snack time. 

* * *

 

 

When Castiel’s cell phone rang, he quickly squelched any hope that it was from Dean.  Two weeks was far too long to wait for a change of heart.  The New York area code told him it could only be from his brother Gabriel, who worked as a chef in the city.

“Hey bro, miss me?”  Castiel had to admit that he did miss his younger brother.  Gabriel was twenty five, closest in age to Castiel, and when he had left Lawrence he had left quite a gap in Castiel’s life.  Though his brother preferred to fly under the radar, he was always dragging Castiel to some underground party or private dinner party.  Needless to say he had kept Castiel’s college years quite interesting.

“Gabriel, it’s good to hear from you,” Castiel said, “How is Balthazar?”

“Oh you know our little brother,” Gabriel said conversationally, “Acing all his classes, making all the right literature connections, sleeping with all the New York socialites.  He’s got his act together, that one.”

Castiel rolled his eyes.  Balthazar had moved to the city with Gabriel two years ago to get his bachelor’s in creative writing and had for whatever reason, been adopted into the New York social scene.  At twenty two years old, he had been spotted in more entertainment photo columns than the majority of minor film stars. 

“That’s good, I suppose,” Castiel agreed, as he made his way into the kitchen to start on dinner for the evening, “As long as you’re both content.”

“We are.  So Anna tells me you’re having man troubles,” Gabriel interjected, “Do I need to come up there and crack some skulls?”  Castiel mentally reminded himself to have a talk with Anna later about the necessity of editing oneself when sharing details of his personal life with all of their siblings. 

“Thank you, but the violence won’t be necessary,” Castiel said, “It is not of import.”

“Ah, just a fling then, you heartbreaker you,” Gabriel teased, “Was he a keeper?”

“I had…hopes.  But it was only one date,” Castiel objected, “I will be fine.”

“Oh, but Castiel, we both know you don’t just ‘date’,” Gabriel countered, “How many months did you moon over this Winchester guy before you actually got any action?”

“I don’t ‘moon’ over anyone,” Castiel snapped, “This is none of your business brother.”

Gabriel gave a low whistle. “Based on that reaction I’m gonna guess three or four months.  Jesus, Castiel.  Are you alright?”  Castiel bristled at the genuine concern in his brother’s voice. 

“It’s fine,” Castiel insisted, “I’m fine.”

“I get it,” Gabriel said, and Castiel could imagine his hands raised in surrender, “You’re the big brother here.  I’m just saying it’s ok if you need some time, or some help with Saman-“

“I am perfectly capable of caring for Samandriel,” Castiel interrupted, “I’m a grown man.  I am not crippled by a relationship cut prematurely short.”

“I’m not doubting you,” Gabriel said, “Still…Sammie’s teacher.  Are you sure you’re ok with him still being in that class?”

“Why would I be concerned about that?” Castiel asked.

“I mean he’s not gonna rag on our brother or anything is he?”  Castiel immediately felt the need to rise to Dean’s defense.  Gabriel didn’t _know_ Dean, although Castiel had to remind himself, apparently he hadn’t known Dean as well as he’d thought.  Still, if anything had been made clear in the course of their interactions, it was that Dean put his class ahead of everything.  Even his own needs, a mutinous voice in his head murmured.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Castiel said, “Dean would never be anything but professional when it came to his students.  Whether or not it’s entirely comfortable for me, he has the best program in Lawrence.”

“Alright it’s your call.  Speaking of Lawrence,” Gabriel continued, “I was thinkin’ I might try to come up for a weekend sometime in the near future.”

“That would be nice, Samandriel would be happy to see you,” Castiel agreed, “Will you be able to get time off from the restaurant?”

“Please,” Gabriel scoffed, “I’ve been here so long, I’ve got sick days out the wazoo. Besides, I’m me.  I’ve got these yuppies eating out of the palm of my hand.  Literally.” Castiel chuckled.  His brother had always been able to worm his way out of trouble. 

“Alright, let me know when you make plans,” Castiel told him, “I have to start on dinner.”

“Will do.  Stay strong.”

“Thank you Gabriel.  I’ll speak with you again soon.  Say hello to Balthazar for me.”  

Castiel’s thoughts were somewhat prickly as he gathered the ingredients for grilled cheese.  Of course he was fine.  He wasn’t some teenager crying over a rejected crush.  He had a family to provide for.  If perhaps some secret part of him had hoped to someday count Dean as part of that family, well that was Castiel’s problem to work through.

* * *

 

 

"Come on Ellen," Dean whined on Friday morning as the kids started filing into the room, "Those women are gonna eat me alive if I show up to this thing by myself!"

"Find someone else then!" Ellen scolded him, "Jo's comin' home for the weekend and I'll be damned if I miss her, even for you Winchester."

"Oh yeah, like who?" Dean countered, "Sam's not gonna take the weekend off to go with me to an early childhood educator's convention."

Of course Sam wasn't who Dean thought of first.  No, Dean's mind immediately drifted to a pair of dark blue eyes and mussed brown hair, but he shoved the thought away just as quickly.  Forget about it Winchester.

"Oh Christ almighty," Ellen swore under her breath, and Dean scowled.

"Hey I'm-"

"Not you," she cut him off, and Dean followed her gaze to the classroom door, "It looks like Mrs. Tran sent Kevin in with a fever again."

Yup, there he was, pale as a ghost and twice as clammy.  Mrs.-freakin- Tran.  Even at age three a missed day of school was unacceptable.  Even if they tried to send Kevin home she would just insist that he stay and try.

"Christ almighty," Dean agreed.  He felt a keen sense of foreboding as he gathered the kids up for calender time, Kevin stumbling to his spot like a man possessed.  

* * *

 

Dean's premonition turned out to be horribly correct.  It was only ten o'clock, and Dean had three kid's worth of puke on the rug, Kevin Tran was clinging to his leg with tears running down his face, and the rest of the class’s cries was a migrane inducing combination of loud and high pitched.  Dean had seen some rough days in his two years of teaching, but this one probably took the cake.  

"Dean!" Ellen snapped her fingers in front of his face, "Stay with me."

"I'm with you." Dean still couldn't shake the panic that was threatening to overtake.  Ellen gripped his arm roughly.

"Here's what's gonna happen Winchester," she told him firmly, "I'm gonna take the healthy ones outside.  It's nice out.  They'll play on the swing set and forget about being sick.  You're gonna take Kevin and the other two to the nurse's office and get them cleaned up.  Then you're gonna take ten minutes in the hallway and pull yourself together so we can move on with the day.  Do you hear me?"

"Yeah.  Yes," Dean said, shaking his head forcefully, "Let's do this.  Thanks Ellen."

"It gets to us all sometimes," Ellen said with a wry smirk, "Come get me when you're ready.  Alright, who wants to play outside?"

In five minutes Dean was alone in the hallway; having safely delivered Kevin and co. to the nurse and made sure the right parents were called.  He leaned against the cinder block wall with a deep shaking breath.  His phone was dialed against his ear before he even realized he had taken it out of his pocket.  A few rings echoed through the empty hallway before a gravelly voice picked up.

"Hello?"

"Cas," Dean said softly, "Cas, it's Dean.

"Dean?  Why are you calling?" Castiel asked him, "Is Samandriel alright?  Did something happen?"

"No, no.  Nothing like that," Dean said quickly, "I'm uh, I'm not calling as Sam's teacher.  It's just me."  There was a long pause on the other line, and for a second Dean thought maybe Cas had hung up on him.  Then he heard a frustrated sigh.

"Mr.  Winchester," Castiel said at last, "I don't think this conversation is entirely appropriate."

"I know," Dean admitted, "I know.  I just...I needed to hear your voice."

"Mr. Win-"  

"Don't call me that Cas, not you, please," Dean pleaded, his voice hoarse, "I've had a hell of a morning.  A kid with the flu, two more with psychosomatic vomiting and the rest in hysterics out on the playground, and I really need you to call me Dean right now."  He ran a hand over his face, trying to even out his breathing should anyone walk by.

"Dean, this break was your choice," Castiel said, "I'm trying my best to respect your wishes.  I thought this was what you _wanted_.  You said-"

"I know what I said," Dean interrupted, "But I was wrong.  Christ, Cas, I was so wrong.  I'm so sorry."

"What are you saying?" Castiel's voice was cautious.  

"I'm saying that my kids haven't had blue paint in the art center for two weeks because it’s the same color as your eyes," the words rushed out of Dean, "When I hang up drawings on the wall all I can see in the squiggles is your name over and over, and the other day little Charlie made me a pretend cheeseburger and I thought I was going to start crying right in the middle of the dramatic play center.  I guess...I'm saying I miss you."

There was silence but for the sound of Castiel's shallow breathing. 

"Cas?" Dean asked quietly, "You still there?"

"I'm here." Cas sounded a little breathless. "Dean, I miss you too.  I miss you so much it pains me.  But I can't just...Samandriel needs me strong.  I can't be half there with him, while half of me is worrying that you're going to turn around and change your mind again."

"I get it," Dean said, running a hand through his hair, "I so get it.  I know I let you down.  We could've been so good and I got scared and I killed it before we even got started.  But I'm asking you now, if there's any part of you that still thinks we could be something, please, give me one more shot."

Again silence reigned.  Dean prayed.  He threw out his first prayer since he was a little kid, begging that if he had ever done right by anyone, could he for the love of Christ just have this one thing.

"There's an early childhood association expo in Kansas City next weekend," Dean blurted out before he could stop himself, "I mean, Ellen usually goes with me, but her daughter is home for the weekend and so I'm kind of flying solo, which when you’re one of the only male elementary school teachers in the state is kind of terrifying, and uh, you were the only other person I could think of that I would want to spend a weekend alone with."  You've gone and done it now, Winchester, Dean thought to himself.  That didn't sound at all insane.  Well, too late to take it back.  Castiel's voice was uncertain when he finally responded.

"You want me to go with you, to a teaching convention."

"Yes," was all Dean could say in response, "I really do."

Castiel paused before answering.  "...I'll have to think about it."

"Yeah, that's fine," Dean assured him, "Of course.  Thanks...for, you know, not hanging up on me."

Cas chuckled.  "Sure.  I'll see you on Monday for the Father's Day party, I suppose."

"Yeah," Dean breathed, "I'll see you then."

"Goodbye Dean."

"Goodbye Cas."

Dean slipped his phone back into his pocket, and began making his way to the backdoor to pick up Ellen and the kids from the playground.  He felt a little flicker of hope light up in his chest.  Cas hadn't said no. 


	11. Father's Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean has his class Father's Day party.

“It’s not true! It’s not TRUE!!” Samandriel was screaming on the carpet, tears streaming down his cheeks as the other kids around him yelled back and forth.

“Hey hey! What’s going on over here?” Dean interjected.  Most of the other kids quieted down as Dean made his presence known, but Samandriel couldn’t help but continue sobbing, pointing an accusing finger at Bella. 

“Bella says Castiel can’t come to the party!” The little boy cried. 

“Well, it’s true!” Bella said sullenly from the edge of the carpet, arms crossed and face set. 

“What?” Dean asked, “What party?”

“The Father’s Day party,” Samandriel said through his tears, “Bella s-says ‘cause he’s not really my dad Castiel can’t c-come and I-I-ah-“ Dean knelt down in front of Samandriel, placing his hands on his shoulders to steady him.  He was doing that thing kids do when they work themselves up so much they can’t breathe and Dean had to calm him down or Samandriel was going to start hyperventilating. 

“Sam, sam!  Take it easy,” Dean coaxed him, “Deep breaths.  Of course Castiel can come for Father’s Day.  I just talked to him about it this morning.” 

“But Bella s-said-“

“Is Bella the teacher?” Dean asked Samandriel, who shook his head, taking a long deep breath, only to be cut short by a hiccup.

“That’s right,” Dean said, “My class, my rules, and my rules say that big brothers are just fine for the Father’s Day party.  Capisce?”  Samandriel nodded, his eyes still puffy and red.

“Yeah, I kapeesh,” he said, still looking at Bella uncertainly.  Dean sighed, then grinned at the little boy.

“Why don’t you and I talk a walk,” Dean suggested, “And get you cleaned up a little.  Mrs. Ellen can have a talk with Bella about saying unkind things to our buddies.”  Samandriel brightened up a little, though his bottom lip still trembled as he took Dean’s hand.  Dean gave Ellen a wink, and she nodded knowingly as they headed out of the classroom.

When they got to the boy’s room, Dean got some damp paper towels and helped Sammie to wipe his face, the cool water soothing his tear streaked skin. 

“You know,” Dean began, “When I was a kid, I had to take care of my little brother, just like Castiel takes care of you.”

“Really?” Samandriel asked with a sniffle, “You didn’t have a mom and dad?”

“Nope,” Dean answered, “Sometimes Mrs. Ellen and Mr. Singer would help take care of us, so I tend to get them presents on Mother and Father’s Day.  But we were on our own for a long time.  And you know what?”

“No, what?” Samandriel said curiously.

“When Sam’s class had a Father’s Day party, I was always there,” Dean told him, “It didn’t matter that I wasn’t really Sam’s dad, all that mattered was that I took care of him.  The names we called each other weren’t important.  All that mattered is that we were family.”

“Just like me an’ Castiel,” Samandriel said with a watery smile. 

“Exactly little man,” Dean agreed, “Now let’s get back to class.  We have decorations to make for the party.” 

* * *

 

 

Father’s Day was a tricky one.  Having his dad off the roster for most of his life, Dean was never quite sure how to play it.  He tried to judge from his own tastes, relying on his preference for activities over long performances, and his love of salty snacks over cupcakes.  A theme was eventually decided on when Dean found a whole rack of red capes on sale at Party City.  As each father, or brother, or Mrs. Tran arrived, they received a hand painted cape, covered in their child’s handprints, along with the words “___________’s Hero!” filled in with the right name.  Dean had had a few clever ideas in his time, but this was probably one of his best.  Already the room was full of ‘superheroes’, helping their kids to hang up their backpacks and stow their lunchboxes, capes fluttering.    

“Hello Dean.”  While Dean had been busy helping Mr. Gallagher, whose cape had somehow gotten caught in Andy’s backpack zipper, Castiel had arrived.  Dean turned to find himself face to face with Samandriel’s brother, though Cas didn’t seem to be able to quite meet his eye just yet. 

“Hey, Cas,” Dean said quietly.  The physical reality of this man, of what he had attempted to walk away from, was a punch in the gut.  Dean had to fight every instinct not to simply throw his arms around Castiel and beg for forgiveness.  

“Samandriel told me what you said,” Castiel said without preamble, “About families.  I am…grateful.  You found the words I had been searching for.”  Dean’s mouth was dry and his palms were sweaty.

“It was no big deal.  I would have done the same for any of my kids,” Dean told him, then more quietly, “Cas, have you thought about-“  Unfortunately that was the moment that Mrs. Tran felt the need to approach him with a discussion of Kevin’s progress, and Castiel melted back into the throng of students to receive his cape from Samandriel.  Damn.  Once he had satisfied Kevin’s mom, who Dean had to admit was no less intimidating in a superman cape, Dean gathered all the dads to give a short welcome speech.  

The key to dealing with dads, at least in terms of a classroom party, was to keep the atmosphere informal and the guests comfortable.  So the first thing they did, once everyone had been introduced and given their cape, was to head outside.  Dean was keeping it simple.  He had a big box full of baseball mitts and wiffle balls, nerf footballs small enough for little hands, flexible Frisbees, and side walk chalk for those with a more creative slant.  He and Ellen laid out several picnic blankets on the grass, laying out bowls of chips, pretzels, chex mix, and m&m’s, along with, in Dean’s opinion, the piece de resistance: coolers stocked full of half cans of soda.  Dean had found the smaller cans in bulk at Costco and stocked up for occasions just such as these.  All in all, it was a good spread.  It was food you grabbed a handful of and got back to your game, which suited his kids and their dads perfectly.

Dean made his rounds, checking in with Charlie and her dad, a big bear of a man who was patiently handing his daughter the right colors of chalk as she illustrated the wide sidewalk that led to the playground.  Charlie was so engrossed, and Mr. Bradbury was so obviously adoring and proud of his daughter, that Dean knew they would be occupied for the majority of the party.  Mr. Gallagher was doing his best to teach Andy how to throw a Frisbee, though Andy was more interested in making his dad run back and forth to make his cape fly “like a real superhero”.  Satisfied that all his students were having a good time, Dean joined Ellen on one of the picnic blankets, grabbing a handful of pretzels. 

“I’ve got an extra of those capes,” Ellen commented, “I thought maybe we could do one up for Bobby, just for old time’s sake.”

“I’m sure he’d get a kick out of it,” Dean agreed, “You got a corsage on Mother’s Day after all.  Don’t want the old man to get jealous.”  Ellen laughed, helping Kevin to fill up a bowl of snacks to share with his mom, who was waiting in the grass a ways away. 

“So,” Ellen began when Kevin was out of earshot, “Did your man give you an answer yet?”

“He’s not my man,” Dean corrected, “And no, not yet.”

“Well he keeps glancin’ over here when he thinks you’re not lookin’” Ellen said with a nod towards Cas, who was playing catch with Samandriel across the yard, “So don’t abandon all hope.”

“I’m tryin’.” Dean cracked open two mini cans of root beer, handing one to Ellen silently as they watched their class laugh and play with their dads. 

The weather was perfect, not too hot, but lots of sun, and the morning passed quickly.  It was no time at all before lunchtime rolled around, and it was time to say goodbye to their visitors.  Dean led his class in a song about “Dads who rock!”, and then the party was over; dads giving their kids hugs and promises to see them at the end of the day.  More than one man came to shake Dean’s hand and tell him gruffly that he was doing good with these kids, which made Dean prouder than any of the flowery praises he could have gotten from the PTA or his fellow staff.  As the parents began to file out, Dean started looking for Cas, hoping to catch him before he headed out.  He saw him talking to his brother by the coat rack.

Dean saw Samandriel pull something out of his backpack, telling Castiel something quietly, his expression uncertain.  Castiel gave the boy an encouraging smile before pointing at Dean, and giving Samandriel a nudge in his direction.  He quickly turned around, so Cas wouldn’t know he’d been watching, and it was only a few seconds before he felt a gentle tug on his sleeve.

“Mr. Winchester?” 

“What’s up buddy?”

Samandriel shyly presented him with a handmade card, clearly done with crayon on the kitchen table at home. 

“I made this for you,” Sammie told him nervously, “That’s you and me reading the Brown Bear book.” He pointed a chubby finger to one section of drawing.  “And that’s Castiel helping us with craft time.”  Dean recognized Castiel’s tan trench coat and blue eyes, as well as his own light brown hair.  “And this,” Samandriel said, indicating the last picture, “Is us at the zoo.”  Dean saw the little Samandriel in a white box that he guessed was the merry-go-round, and with a jolt he realized that the other two figures, him and Cas, were holding hands, just like that day at the zoo.  This time, the image didn’t make Dean at all uncomfortable.

“You said that families are ‘apposed to take care of each other,” Samandriel continued, “So I figured out that maybe you’re kind of like my family too, Mr. Winchester.” 

_Goddammit_ Dean hadn’t cried in years and he wasn’t about to start now.  He was just allergic to really cute thoughtful kids, and it was making his eyes water, was all.    

“Thank you Sam,” Dean told him, going down on one knee to give the boy a hug, “I’ll keep it right on my fridge at home.” 

As Samandriel wrapped his arms tightly around Dean’s neck, he couldn’t help but steal a glance at Cas.  Castiel was staring at them, but somehow Dean could tell his focus was more on Samandriel.  There was something pained in his expression, but Dean could also see…pride?  Hope?  Dean didn’t take his eyes off of Cas as he stood back up, sending Samandriel to go and join his friends on the carpet. 

“This was…this is great,” Dean said, indicating Samandriel’s gift.

“It was Samandriel’s idea,” Castiel told him, “He is very fond of you.” 

“I don’t have to tell you what a great kid I think he is,” Dean said, then, unsure of what to say, “So about the convention…” 

 “My brother is in town this weekend,” Cas said abruptly as Samandriel walked away, “He works in New York and he doesn’t get to visit very often.”

“Oh,” Dean said, reddening, “Right.  You’ll want to be with him.  I get it-“

“No,” Castiel said, placing a tentative hand on Dean’s shoulder, “Gabriel is coming to visit so he can spend some one on one time with Samandriel.  He hasn’t really gotten to know him yet and I volunteered to step back for a few days.  So…”

“You mean…” Dean dared to look Cas dead in the eye for the first time in weeks, and what he found there made the bottom drop out of his stomach.  Castiel’s hand tightened on his shoulder, and for just a moment, amid the scurrying of parents and kids, Dean dared to place his own hand on top, the touch of their skin almost electric as Cas stared at him, blue eyes brimming with nerves and excitement and hope.

“What time do you want to pick me up?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! We're entering the fourth act here, so stay with me!


	12. Brotherly advice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel has some concerns.

“Castiel I don’t like this,” Gabriel said with suspicion, “What if he’s a serial killer and all this has just been an elaborate ruse to kidnap you and cut you up into little pieces?”

“The rapidity with which you provided that very gruesome example is causing me to reconsider leaving Samandriel in your care, brother,” Castiel joked as he placed the final covered dish in the refrigerator, having prepared several meals for Samandriel ahead of time should Gabriel need the assistance, “Regardless, I trust that the Lawrence school system has sufficient background checks to weed out anyone truly threatening.”  Castiel was in good spirits, which put him in something of a joking mood.  Dean was due any moment, and he couldn’t help but tap his fingers on the kitchen counter impatiently, watching out the window for the telltale black metal shine of the Impala.  His bag was packed and waiting by the door, prepared for any and all eventualities, and Samandriel had clothes laid out for the weekend and food in the refrigerator, though he had no doubt Gabriel would fill him up with all kinds of junk food.  Anna would be over for dinner though, so he didn’t have to worry too much.  Castiel was so busy rechecking his list that he hadn’t noticed his brother was speaking again.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” Castiel asked.  Gabriel rolled his eyes.

“I said I don’t like this guy yanking your chain,” he repeated, “You sure about this?”

“I am sure, Gabriel, thank you,” Castiel assured him, though that was something of a half-truth.  He had barely slept the night before, half due to excitement and the other half anxiety.  If going to the zoo had been Dean’s undoing before, what would this weekend bring?  Were they sharing a hotel room?  What expectations should Castiel have of Dean physically?  Dean’s words over the phone still buzzed in Castiel’s mind, and seeing him on Father’s Day had only made him more confident in his decision.  Still, Castiel had to admit he was more than a little nervous.

“Just…he tries anything sketchy, one little thing that rubs you the wrong way,” Gabriel told him, “You call me.  I’ll drive out there, baby on my hip, and teach that douche not to be a dic-hey little brother!”  Gabriel halted his graphic tirade as Samandriel came running into the kitchen to be quickly scooped up into his brother’s arms. 

“I’m not a baby Gabriel,” Samandriel said with a scowl, “I’m _three_ years old.”

“What?!” Gabriel exclaimed, “You can’t be that big.  I remember last time I saw you, you were so little I could just put you in my pocket and carry you around.  We used to lose you in the couch cushions.  Castiel was always worried the neighbors cat was gonna mistake you for a mouse and carry you off.”

“No!” Samandriel laughed, and Castiel relaxed to see him so obviously comfortable with Gabriel.  His brother might have been something of a trickster growing up, but Castiel knew there was little more important to Gabriel than his family. 

“Samandriel,” Castiel interrupted gently, “You remember that I’m going away for today and tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah,” Samandriel nodded, “I’m gonna stay with Gabriel and Anna.”

“Right,” Castiel continued, “I’ll only be a little while away.  I’m going to a teacher convention in Kansas City.”

“That’s right,” Gabriel chimed in, “He’s gonna study reading and writing and _anatomy…_ ” He gave Castiel a lewd wink on the latter, and Castiel rolled his eyes, reaching for Samandriel.

“I’ll take that off your hands,” he quipped, wrapping Samandriel in a tight hug, asking his little brother “So you’ll be ok, right?”

“Of course,” Samandriel said, looking at Castiel quizzically, “Are you gonna be ok?  I know it’s hard when I’m not there to take care of you.”  Gabriel cracked up on that line, though Samandriel looked genuinely concerned for Castiel. 

“Don’t you worry,” Gabriel said through his chuckles, “He’ll have someone to take care of him all right.”

“ _Gabriel_ ,” Castiel warned, although Samandriel seemed somewhat comforted.  He wrapped his arms tight around Castiel’s neck, kissing him on the cheek before looking at him sternly.

“Have fun,” Samandriel insisted, “I’m gonna go play in the living room now.”  Castiel put him down, and he scurried from the room, telling Gabriel to come play with him soon. 

“When he gets all stern he looks just like you,” Gabriel said, nudging Castiel lightly. 

“I suppose,” Castiel laughed, “And when he laughs he looks just like you.”

Gabriel smiled gratefully, and they listened as Samandriel flew a toy plane around the living room, silent until a loud car horn sounded from the driveway. 

“He’s here,” Castiel said, all his nerves hitting him at once, “He’s here.  Gabriel, what do I do?  How do I-“ His babble was cut off by Gabriel throwing him his duffle bag and shoving him towards the door.

“Now is not the time for nerves, bro,” Gabriel informed him as Castiel waved farewell to Samandriel, throwing the front door open, “Now’s the time to man up, pour on the charm, and hopefully hit one out of the park.”  And with that sage advice, Castiel found himself walking down the front walk, confidence growing with every step. 

“Have fun!” Gabriel called after him, “Use protection!”

* * *

 

Cas slid into the passenger seat next to Dean like he belonged there, tossing his duffle into the backseat.

“So, may I ask,” he said, with his customary half smile and a conspiratorial glint in his eye, “The plan?”

Dean grabbed Cas’ hand, placing a shy kiss on the palm before pressing it to his face.  He felt the tension of the last few weeks drain from his shoulders as Castiel’s thumb stroked across his cheek and the corner of his mouth. Castiel smiled as Dean kissed his hand once more before releasing it.

“That was step one,” Dean said, clearing his throat as he turned his attention to his baby, revving the engine as he turned to pull them out of the parking lot, “Step two: we hit the road.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hola! This is a precursor to a lengthy chapter, which I hope to have up by the end of the week!


	13. Kansas City

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Castiel attend the convention, and make some real progress.

Truth was, Kansas City was not a long drive from Lawrence.  The only reason Dean and Ellen usually got a hotel room was so they could get smashed at the caterer’s bar and not have to drive home after.  The whole convention was in the hotel, so they always got a deal on the room.  Dean had never gotten around to canceling the rooms when Ellen had backed out, so he figured they may as well stick with tradition.  When Cas had accepted Dean’s invitation, he’d made it pretty clear that the plan was to stay in the city overnight, though Cas had not indicated whether he wanted that to involve separate rooms…or separate beds.  Dean was trying to tread lightly, but the idea of spending the night with Cas made him fucking giddy.  He spent most of the drive trying to think of a way to indirectly approach the subject, though in the end when they pulled up to the hotel he just went for it.

“So the hotel’s all taken care of…” Dean began as Cas was fishing his bag out of the back seat.

“I hope you got a king,” Castiel said as he emerged from the passenger side to look at Dean from across the Impala, “It’s been a long time since I’ve slept with a partner and I may unconsciously attempt to dominate the bed.” 

Dean’s brain momentarily disconnected at the words “dominate” and “bed”.  Well that answers _that_ question.

“Uh-I mean…yeah,” Dean stammered, “I was thinkin’ the same thing.”   

Dean thought he saw the corner of Castiel’s mouth quirk up in satisfaction before they headed inside to check in.

* * *

 

The first site of interest after registration was a merchandise gallery, ranging from convention t-shirts and coffee mugs to ergonomic shoes and classroom decorations.  Castiel stopped to laugh at a rack of brightly colored nurse’s scrubs. 

“What?” Dean asked, surprised at his chuckling.

“Is this where you got those coveralls you were wearing the day we met?” Cas asked, lips still twisted in amusement. 

“Which ones?” Dean asked, searching his memory.

“The one’s with the little Impalas,” Cas said, “They were quite unique.”

“Those were a gift, actually,” Dean said, coloring, “Sammy got them for me after my first year of teaching.  Me and Ellen wear them all the time, whenever we’re gonna do the more messy crafts.  We figured the kids wear smocks, why not the teachers?”

“They were very flattering,” Castiel deadpanned. 

“Laugh all you want,” Dean said, “They keep me from getting covered in paint every day.  I only have so many nice clothes for school.”

“Well then I’ll know what to buy you for Christmas,” Castiel commented, looking through the racks at the different textile patterns.  Dean glanced at his level expression, struck by the fact that Cas expected to be around long enough to buy him a Christmas gift.  From anyone else that statement would have been a warning siren, but from Castiel it was strangely comforting, like a promise.  Cas held up a pair of deep green scrubs covered in jungle animals, like he was measuring the width against Dean’s shoulders, though Dean noticed that Castiel’s eyes were on his mouth more than anything else. 

“Come on,” Dean urged him, clearing his throat, “We’re gonna miss the keynote speaker.”

* * *

 

The opening presenter was a teacher from New York who specialized in classroom accommodations for students with disabilities.  Dean and Cas found seats near the back, knees knocking and shoulder’s brushing as they settled in for the talk in the crowded conference room.  Dean pulled out a notebook, shrugging at Castiel’s raised eyebrows.  He was actually pretty serious about this talk.  If Dean could eventually modify his room and curriculum, he’d be the only program in Lawrence, and one of the few in Kansas that could accommodate a kid with an IEP, which could majorly expand his class size.  Castiel squinted at the podium in the front of the room, then shrugged himself, pulling a small notebook out of his coatpocket.

“Do you have an extra pen?” Cas rumbled as the lights dimmed and the audience welcomed the speaker with a round of applause.

“Yeah, I guess…what are you doing?” Dean asked as Castiel flipped open the small notebook, which as far as Dean could see was contained a lot of notes that weren’t in English in cramped handwriting.

“This seems important to you,” Castiel observed as he accepted Dean’s offered pen, “I am an excellent note taker.”

“Uh…ok,” Dean agreed as the woman at the microphone began to speak.

The presentation was interesting, and the speaker was very charismatic, but more and more throughout the hour Dean found his gaze drawn to the man sitting next to him.  Cas was hunched over his notebook, carefully recording the woman’s words, as well as the important headings from the Powerpoint.  His eyes were narrowed in the dim light, brow furrowed.  Dean liked seeing this part of Cas.  It was how he imagined him working at home, poring over ancient texts and harlequin novels alike, looking for the perfect phrases to translate the author’s intent, focus tight like a general making battle strategies.  His hand moved lithely across the page, writing line after line with ease.  Dean was probably gonna have to turn in his man card for thinking it, but there was no other word for it.  Castiel’s hands were fucking _elegant_.  They were sturdy, strong enough to leave bruises on Dean’s back as they had kissed in the front seat of the Impala, but Dean had also watched as Cas brushed the hair out of Samandriel’s eyes, his touch feather light.  Dean reached out to Castiel now, gently taking the pen from his grasp to write a single line underneath his notes.

_I’m really glad you came._

Castiel read the note in the dark light, eyes lighting up as he took the pen back, careful to brush his fingers against Dean’s before adding his own response. 

_Me too._

They both turned their attention back to the front of the auditorium, though when Dean rearranged his feet so he and Cas were pressed together, Castiel didn’t move away.

* * *

 

“Meg never wanted kids.”

It was a little after dinnertime, and they strolled through the publisher’s booths, admiring the newest storybooks and teaching theory texts.  Castiel had stopped to stare at a series of children’s development books, all focused on preparing a child for a new sibling. 

“That was why we were going to split up,” Castiel confessed, fingers tracing the image of a laughing baby girl, “She didn’t want a family, and I was desperate for one.”

Dean didn’t know what to say, except to run a hand up and down Cas’ back, leaving a subtle kiss on the fabric covering his shoulder. 

“I almost got married at eighteen,” Dean said eventually, “To a girl.” 

It was something he had never told anyone.  Castiel looked at him in surprise.

“You?” Castiel looked confused “But you weren’t-you didn’t-“

“No,” Dean said quietly, “I cared about her and everything, but not in the way that I was supposed to.  I knew…how I was.”

“Then why would you attempt to get married?”  Cas’s eyes were serious, and Dean thought maybe Castiel already had an idea of the answer he was about to give. 

“I wanted kids,” Dean confessed, “I wanted a family, whole apple pie life that went with it.  I guess maybe I thought I could prove something to my dad, show him what it really meant to take care of the people you care about.  I was young, and stupid, and I thought I could go through with it.”   

“What made you call it off?” Castiel asked as they wound their way through the displays.

“I almost didn’t,” Dean admitted, “We were standing outside of City Hall before I finally realized what I was about to do.  I just…Cassie actually loved me.  She loved me the way I was supposed to love her, and I just knew I would never be able to live with myself.  I look back now, and it just makes me sick to think I almost sentenced her to that life.  That I could be so disrespectful.”

“You were coming from a place of well meaning,” Castiel soothed, but Dean shook his head.

“I was afraid, plain and simple,” Dean said, “I grew up and went to school where gay kids got egged and shoved into lockers if they were _lucky_ , and all I could think was ‘here’s my chance’.  But if I’d tried to raise a kid like that? To be afraid like I was? Like I still am sometimes?”  He just shook his head, feeling the shame of his childhood course through his veins again.  This time it was Cas who offered the comforting touch, hidden by the stacks of literature, closing strong fingers around Dean’s wrist. 

“I’m glad you made the choice you did,” Castiel told him, eyes grave.

“Me too,” Dean agreed, “I’m glad I made it here.  Now I know what’s possible.”  Cas gave him that half smile, with all the possibilities Dean had been talking about hidden inside.  Dean leaned in, eyes flicking unconsciously down to Castiel’s mouth as the man licked his lips.  They were safe behind a large stand of books, nobody would see.  Just maybe he could…  

“Dean Winchester!”  Dean jumped, putting a foot of space between him and Cas and instantly regretting it as Castiel’s open expression fell back to one of careful politeness as Dean turned to greet a very familiar face. 

“God Almighty that is not Missouri Mosely!” Dean exclaimed, weaving through the tables to embrace his old professor.  Missouri was as vibrant as ever, a good head shorter than Dean but all steel under her motherly exterior.

“In the flesh,” Missouri agreed, “Boy, you are getting’ skinny since I last saw you!  What are they feedin’ you at that Kansas Elementary?”

“Juice boxes, mostly,” Dean joked, “Sure as hell can’t eat the cafeteria food.”  Missouri laughed, then looked at Dean curiously as Castiel joined them, standing close to Dean. 

“Cas, this is Missouri, the teacher who saved me from flunking out of grad school,” Dean said, by way of introduction, “Missouri, this is Castiel Novak.”

“I didn’t save you from nothin’,” Missouri demurred, “You just needed a good kick to get you goin’.  It’s a pleasure to meet you Mr. Novak.” 

“Castiel, please,” Cas said, straightening up under Missouri’s penetrating gaze as he shook her hand.  Missouri tended to have that affect on people.  She made you want to be more polite and think more honest thoughts.

“Castiel then,” Missouri corrected, “It’s good of you to be here with Dean.  I’m guessin’ Ellen was all tied up?”

“Yes ma’am,” Dean told her, “Jo’s home from school for the weekend and she’s preferable company I guess.” 

“I imagine so,” Missouri laughed, “So are you a friend of Dean’s then?”      

“Cas’ brother is in my class,” Dean said quickly, “He’s my best volunteer.”

Castiel and Missouri both gave him puzzling looks when he said that, but Castiel spoke up before he could wonder what it was about. 

“Yes,” Castiel confirmed, “Dean invited me, and I was more than happy to join him.  I’m always eager to gain more knowledge when it comes to my brother’s education.”

“That’s good to hear,” Missouri said, “Though clearly you’ve got a good head on your shoulders if you put him in Dean’s class.  He’s the finest elementary teacher in the state.”

“Only ‘cause you’re retired,” Dean muttered, embarrassed by the praise.

“Well, that goes without sayin’,” Missouri agreed, which made Castiel laugh.  After another minute of small talk, Cas stepped away, under the pretense of getting a drink at the bar a room over, though Dean thought maybe he was just trying to give Dean and Missouri a few minutes to chat.  Missouri watched him leave, an interested expression on her face.

“I like him,” she commented, “Very polite.” 

“I like him too,” Dean agreed.

“So how long have you two been seeing each other?”  Missouri asked him as soon as Cas was out of earshot.  Dean immediately flushed what he was sure was a deep shade of red.

“What, me and Cas?” Dean said quickly, “I think you’ve got the wrong impression ma’am.  Castiel is just one of my parents.”  Missouri just looked at him before reaching up to smack him upside the head. 

“Ow, Missouri what was that for?”  Dean demanded, rubbing the back of his head.

“For lyin’ to me,” said Missouri sternly, “All these years and you still want to treat me like I was born yesterday?  Like I can’t see the way you’ve been looking at that boy when you think he’s not payin’ attention?  Shame on you.”

“I wasn’t lyin’,” Dean mumbled, falling into his Midwestern accent all too easily around Missouri, “We were trying to keep a low profile.”

“Well it’d be a lot lower if you two weren’t staring at each other like you’ve just seen the Good Lord walking out of his tomb.”

Dean shook his head.  “You don’t get it.”

Missouri leveled a look at him that harbored no bull.  “Then explain it to me, boy.”

“I’m not out,” Dean tried to clarify, “At least not at work.  There’s people that would…that would say things, about a gay guy that wanted to teach young kids.  Teaching’s all I got, Missouri.  I can’t lose my program, no matter how much I like Cas.”

Missouri rolled her eyes.  “You always pick the darndest things to make a fuss about,” she said, “First of all, anybody who’s been in the same room with the two of you for more than five minutes was either born blind or they already know that you’re not just waitin’ for the right girl to come along.  Second of all, if you bein’ the way you are is enough to stop people from sendin’ you their kids, then you obviously weren’t much of a teacher to begin with.”

“You know as well as I do that’s not really how it works,” Dean tried to retort.

“And you can sit around and be miserable about it, or you can start workin’ to change people’s minds,” Missouri told him, “I never said it would be easy boy, but you’ve gotta have something that would make it worth the fight.  Like Mr. Novak for instance.”

“I…” Dean didn’t have a witty response.  Missouri was right.   

“Do you wanna fight for him?”  Dean’s jaw clenched at the memory of the weeks he’d spent missing Cas, and even after just a few hours he blanched at the thought of returning to his life without him.

“Yeah, I do,” he admitted, to himself and Missouri.  Castiel was too good, too smart, and too fucking beautiful for Dean to keep up this dance of yes/no.  Missouri nodded at Dean’s resolve.

“Then don’t you be sittin’ around,” Missouri warned him, “I don’t think that man is gonna be happy to have you introducing him as your classroom volunteer for much longer.”

“You just keep savin’ my ass,” Dean said gratefully, which made Missouri scowl at him.

“Don’t cuss,” she scolded, before giving him an indulgent smile, “And I’ve never saved you, I just give you the kick to get goin’.”

“Thanks Missouri,” Dean said, leaning down to give his old teacher a quick kiss on the cheek, “If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to go win back my man.”

“Quit your foolin’ and get going,” Missouri shooed him as Dean made his way into the next room, where he quickly spotted Cas sitting awkwardly by the catering bar.

 “Can I buy you a drink?” Dean flirted, sliding into the seat beside Cas. 

“Do you buy drinks for all your classroom volunteers?” Castiel asked.  His voice was cool, but when his gaze met Dean’s it was tinged with worry and hurt.

“Only the handsome ones,” Dean joked, though his smile fell when Cas looked away.  God dammit he was gonna mess this up all over again.

“You know, Missouri just gave me the dressing down of a lifetime for saying what I did back there,” Dean admitted, “And she’s right.  You deserve so much better Cas.”

“I don’t care about what I ‘deserve’.  I care about you.”  Castiel looked back at Dean, his blue eyes cutting through all of Dean’s defenses.  They were on the edge of something big, he knew.  The old anxiety was bubbling, but so were Missouri’s words.  And Ellen’s.  And Sam’s.  Dean needed this.  He needed Cas. 

“And I care about you,” Dean said, “I’m tired of bein’ afraid Cas. And you…you make me-I want-Christ, I am not good at this.  I don’t know why you put up with it.”

“You have taught my brother to have so much confidence,” Castiel observed, placing a cautious hand on Dean’s knee, “It saddens me that you don’t keep any of that esteem for yourself.”

“I’m tryin’ Cas,” Dean said honestly, “I just- I need time.  And help.  Your help.” Ok, that’s a good start.  Keep it going, Winchester.

“Dean,” Castiel began, tone serious, “Samandriel is graduating in a week.  I am willing to wait that period of time, because I don’t want you to feel professionally conflicted.  But after that…I would like to be with you.”

Dean grabbed Castiel’s hand where it rested on the bar.

“You would wait for me?” Dean asked, incredulous. 

“It’s only seven days,” Castiel said with a laugh, “But afterwards, I don’t want any secrets or hiding.  I want to be together for everyone to see.”  Suddenly the words were there, and Dean pushed past the nerves and anxiety.

“Thank you,” Dean said, squeezing Cas’ hand, “Thank you.  And when the time comes, I want it.  I want the whole package.  I want to make out with you in the car, and I want to watch Disney movies with you and Sam.  I want to hold hands with you in the hallway at school and anyone who wants to comment can go to hell because this,” he held their joined hands for Cas to see, “This feels right.  It feels more right than I think I’ve ever felt in my entire life.”  There it was, all said.  Dean was terrified.  Terrified of letting Castiel down, of becoming a part of a family, of what people would say when they found out.  But he was more terrified of letting go of Cas’ hand.

Cas’ jaw was slack, and his eyes were wide, pupils blown.  Pulling Dean’s hand against his chest, Castiel bent his head to lay a single, open mouthed kiss against Dean’s knuckles, his thumb stroking at Dean’s pulse point.  Dean swallowed, heart quickening at the intimacy of the action.

“I think we should go upstairs now,” Castiel said with deceptive calmness.  Dean’s breath was coming short, and he nodded, tossing a few bills on the bar before pulling Cas by the hand to the waiting elevators.  As they waited for their floor, surrounded by tired convention goers, Dean could feel the teasing trace of Castiel’s fingers up and down the back of his hand, unseen by their fellow passengers.  He closed his eyes and clenched his jaw to avoid making any embarrassing sounds as the simplicity of that touch threatened to take him apart.  By the time they arrived at their floor it was Cas who was dragging him down the hall, hand tight around his wrist as Dean searched his pockets for the room key, sliding it into the lock with fingers that shook.

They stumbled into the room, toeing off their shoes, the only light the orange glow of the streetlamps that filtered in through the sheer curtains.  Dean let the door slam behind them, deaf to the noise as he finally wrapped his arms around Castiel’s waist, pulling his back flush to his chest.  He was already hard in his jeans, and he rocked against Cas, letting him know just how much Dean wanted him as he laid a track of wet kisses up the side of Castiel’s neck.  Castiel twisted to claim Dean’s mouth with his own, and the fire in Dean’s belly went to a full inferno as he finally, _finally_ , rediscovered the beautiful wet heat that had haunted his memory for the last two weeks.  He traced his hands down Castiel’s chest, gliding over his firm abdomen and palming his hard cock through his slacks.  Cas groaned as Dean touched him, a thin sheen of sweat developing on the back of his neck, which Dean eagerly tasted.  Cas was getting his bearings, and his hands were scrabbling for the back of Dean’s thighs, his range of motion inhibited by his bulky trench coat.

“It’s too damn hot for this coat,” Dean whispered into Castiel’s ear as he tugged it off the man’s shoulders, tossing it across the room.  Castiel’s suit jacket soon followed, along with Dean’s button down, both of their hands searching for skin.

“Why do we both have to wear so many god damn _layers_ ,” Castiel lamented, his mouth demanding against Dean’s even at the awkward angle, his hands reaching behind to stroke the short hair at the base of his scalp.  Dean grunted his agreement into Castiel’s lips, tasting the hard line of his jaw and the shell of his ear as he fumbled with Cas’ tie.  A rumble of pleasure sounded in Castiel’s chest as Dean’s teeth teased at his ear and his tie fell to the floor in a puddle of silk.  Castiel’s fingers tangled with Dean’s helping him to undo the buttons of his white shirt until it too was sinking to the floor and Dean’s hands were greedily mapping the smooth muscles of his chest.  Cas shifted in his arms so that they were face to face, sliding his hands under Dean’s t-shirt, thumbs toying with the jut of his hipbone before pulling the fabric roughly over his head.  They were kissing again before Dean’s shirt even hit the floor, mouths open and hungry for each other, breath already hot and labored. 

Dean was so distracted by Castiel’s tongue in his mouth that he didn’t notice they were backing up until the back of his knees hit the mattress.  He fell onto his back with a surprised yelp and Castiel followed him, their chests flush and Dean’s legs instinctively parting to make room.  Cas was taking control, and Dean didn’t realize how much he liked it until Cas was pinning his wrists above his head and grinding his hips down into Dean’s groin.

“ _Shit_ ,” Dean exclaimed as he felt the hard line of Cas’ dick through his pants, “We are still wearing too much clothing.”

“I agree,” Cas growled, before releasing his hands, full attention now on undoing the zipper of Dean’s jeans.  Dean tried his best to help, shifting and wiggling until he was kicking his pants off the end of the bed, yanking down Cas’ black dress slacks until they were both bare, and the weight of Cas was pressing him down into the mattress as they rocked together, cocks straining against their flush stomachs.  Castiel dragged his dull nails down Dean’s sides, leaving trails of electricity as Dean sucked a mark into the base of his neck.  The promise of Castiel’s cock, the impatient grinding of his hips was making Dean instinctively cant his pelvis, presenting himself.  He hadn’t played this part in a while but _goddamn_ he ready for it with Cas.  The man was already making broken sounds as he buried his face in Dean’s hair, kissing down the side of his face until he found his lips.   

“I want you,” Cas gasped against Dean’s skin, “Christ, Dean I want you so much.  I thought I would never want anyone again.”  Dean clasped their lips together again as Castiel ground his cock against the curve of Dean’s ass. 

“Take what you want Cas,” Dean whispered, Castiel’s sweaty forehead sliding against his own, “Fuck me.  Please.” 

“Yes,” Castiel said, nodding eagerly, “Yes.”  He shoved his tongue back down Dean’s throat, ravaging his mouth until Dean thought he might pass out from lack of oxygen.  Dean wound his hands into Castiel’s hair until he could pull him back, a desperate breath tearing into his lungs. 

“We’re…we’re gonna need stuff,” he wheezed, “My bag…”

Castiel looked at him with what would have been a dry smirk if he hadn’t been so fucking wrecked.  “You came prepared.”

“Yeah,” Dean said, too eager to be embarrassed, “Yes.  In the front pocket.  _God_ Cas hurry...”

Castiel leaned down to pull a packet of lube and a foil wrapped condom from his own bag, tossing them on the bed.  “It looks like we both had hopes for tonight.”

What Dean would later vehemently deny had been a hysterical giggle burst from his chest then as Castiel tore the lip of the lube packet open with his teeth, coating two fingers generously.  Castiel kissed him again, with surprising gentleness, and Dean felt his body relax as the first cold touch of Cas’ hand breached his entrance.   

Castiel went to work, patiently stretching and flexing as Dean opened up under his firm touch, their mouths never parting.  Dean put his hands on Castiel; anywhere he could reach he was touching, gripping, carding his hands through Castiel’s dark hair until it peaked in bizarre tufts and spikes, and still he needed _more._   He moaned into Castiel’s mouth as the man added a second finger, scissoring and bending until Dean was arching off the mattress, his nails leaving crescents on Castiel’s shoulders and his lips spit slick as Dean’s head hit the pillows with a groan.

“You look incredible,” Cas said as he worked his fingers deeper, then, almost to himself, “I haven’t done this in such a _long_ time.”

“Yeah?” Dean gasped, “You could ‘a fooled m-“  His words garbled into incoherent sounds and curses as Castiel dragged his fingers across Dean’s prostate.

“Just incredible,” Castiel said again as he took Dean apart, laying a soft kisses on his sweat slicked skin.

“Wow.  _Fuck_ , I’m good,” Dean wheezed, pulling Castiel back up to his mouth again, “I’m ready, Cas.  I need you _-_ sweet Jesus- _“_ Castiel sucked Dean’s tongue into his mouth, hands scrabbling across the bedspread for the condom he had pulled out minutes ago as he scissored his fingers slowly inside Dean one more time.  If Cas didn’t fucking hurry Dean was going to come right then and there.  He didn’t think he had ever been this hard in his life and the sight of Castiel, skin shining with sweat and chest flushed with arousal was almost enough to send him over the edge. 

Cas got himself wrapped and lined up, Dean’s thighs practically braced against his chest as Cas stroked his hair and peppered his face with kisses. 

“Are you sure?  Can I-please,“ Castiel panted, his muscles already shaking from restraint.  Dean tried to keep his breathing even, eyes locked on Cas’ lust blown baby blues.

“Yeah.  Just…uh…go slow ok?” Dean asked, “It’s been a long time for me too.”  Cas nodded, leaving Dean with a long, slow kiss before he was sitting up and thrusting in.

At the first hot press of Castiel’s cock to his insides Dean thought he might not be able to hold it together.  Cas was gripping his hips like Dean was his only lifeline, sliding into Dean’s ass inch by burning inch, stopping and waiting as Dean adjusted, relaxing as his body began to swallow Cas down eagerly.  Dean felt the sting, he knew the ache that would be there in the morning, and he welcomed it.  He wanted it, the proof that he had gone to every physical length he could to show Cas how much he wanted to be with him.  He tried to stay quiet, but already an unholy groan was ripping from his chest as Castiel broke him open, with his cock and his hands that were bruising but gentle.  The beating of his heart was like a fucking drum in the quiet room, accompanied by Castiel’s labored breathing and the rustle of bedsheets. 

“ _Dean.”_   Cas bottomed out with a deep cry.  Cas’ hips were flat against the back of Dean’s thighs and Dean was so _full,_ and he had forgotten what it really felt like to be possessed like this.  The pain that blurred Dean’s vision was quickly fading into pleasure as Castiel rocked his hips tentatively, shifting inside of him and sending fucking tremors up his spine.

“So long Cas,” Dean breathed as Castiel made his first cautious thrusts, pulling out so sweet and slow before grinding back in, “So long I wanted this-all the times I imagined this with you, it was never even _close_ to the- _fuck_ -the real thing.”  Dean was stroking up and down Cas’ taught arms, bowing his spine to reach his lips, crushing their mouths together as they found some kind of rhythm.  Dean was good to go, thrusting back against Cas as he bottomed out again, trying to pull him even deeper.  He was slick and open, ready when Castiel finally started to thrust in earnest, his hips snapping hard and sharp against Dean’s ass.

The blood rushed to his head as Castiel lifted Dean’s hips, trying to find that perfect angle and _Christ_ that was his prostate and Dean was seeing stars he was so close.  He reached a hand between their pressed bodies to bring himself off, but Castiel brushed his hand away, insisting “Let me.”

“Let me take care of you,” Castiel whispered in his ear, closing a long, limber hand around Dean’s cock, stripping him in time with his thrusts as Dean writhed beneath him, clutching at Castiel’s shoulders and back with fingers that bruised.

“So good Cas, so perfect,” Dean chanted in praise as Cas hit home again and again, one hand using Dean’s shoulder for leverage as the other jacked him mercilessly, and his mouth, his _goddamned_ mouth was speaking a whole new language against Dean’s skin.  Castiel was slamming into him like the ocean crashing into the fucking shore and Dean could only hear the blood roaring in his ears and his name falling from Cas’s mouth like a prayer.  This was visceral and cathartic, the physical intimacy Dean had craved with this man since he’d caught sight of him wandering lost in the hallway.    

“Come on,” Dean gasped as Castiel began to lose his rhythm, hips stuttering as his thrusts became more desperate, “Come on, Cas.  I won’t break.  Not this time.  Give it to me.”  Dean wrapped his legs around Cas’ waist, physically pulling him as far in as he could, the head of Castiel’s cock dragging across his prostate one more time and that was all it took.  Dean came with a cry, spilling over Castiel’s hand as he continued to stroke him through his orgasm, leaving stripes of white across his stomach.  In the throes of ecstasy Dean felt Cas’ cock jerk inside of him, following Dean over the edge with a groan that resonated through Dean’s oversensitive nerves.

Cas gave one final thrust, chest heaving with exertion, shifting until his cock softened.  Dean winced as Castiel slipped out, leaving him feeling strangely empty, though the feeling faded as Castiel nestled himself close, tucking his head under Dean’s chin.  Dean ran possessive hands up and down Cas’ sides as their breathing evened out; Cas leaning up to brush his lips along Dean’s jaw, sharing a tender kiss before collapsing against his chest again.  They both laughed, well-fucked and happy.

“We should do that again,” Cas murmured against Dean’s chest, “Soon.”

“As soon as possible,” Dean agreed, kissing into Castiel’s soft hair.

“Give me about twenty minutes,” he requested sleepily, “My refractory period is not what it once was.”

“We’ve got time,” Dean said, eyes fluttering shut.  The come was still sticky between their bellies, but Cas was so warm and comfortable, Dean didn’t have the heart to move him.  He’d just rest for a few minutes…then they could get cleaned up…


	14. Sunday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Castiel share some intimate moments.

Castiel awoke to find the pale sun of early morning streaming across the bed.  The gold light poured across the tacky duvet pattern, making the clichéd paisley seem rich and exotic.  It pooled in the dips and hollows of the too fluffy pillows that Castiel rested on, as it would a on a cumulus cloud.  If Castiel had had a mirror, he would have seen how it danced across his skin, picking up the warm reds and browns in his hair, and making his blue eyes nearly silver in the brightest parts.  Castiel noticed these things, but he dismissed them just as quickly.  Castiel only had eyes for the man who lay entwined with him. 

The morning light sang against Dean Winchester’s skin.  Castiel cautiously raised his head from where it lay on Dean’s chest, and traced the light with his eyes where it threw bright tracts of tan and gold across his torso, dipping into blue shadows at the base of Dean’s throat, up to the man’s crown, where the morning sun caught every thread of gold that wove through his dark blonde hair.  Castiel placed a kiss against the sun warmed skin where he had until recently been resting, his body still comfortably, if somewhat stickily, strewn across Dean’s, their feet tangled at the end of the mattress.

It seemed so natural for Castiel, as he lay sleepy kissed across Dean’s chest, to slip a hand under the sheets and wrap his fingers around Dean’s soft cock, giving a firm stroke as the man stirred.  Dean let out a low hum of pleasure as he woke fully, hands searching for Castiel across the bedspread until they could graze along the flesh of his back, sending rivulets of drowsy pleasure down Castiel’s spine.  Dean was hard in his hand now, and Castiel set a languid rhythm, stroking and brushing his thumb through the pooling precome at the tip as he kissed his way back up Dean’s throat, enjoying each soft gasp that constricted it.  It wasn’t long at all until Dean reached his climax with a broken sound, spilling into Castiel’s hand, back arching ever so slightly off the mattress before collapsing again.  Dean’s fingers traced down Castiel’s spine to rest at the cleft of his ass as his breathing settled, his flushed skin resplendent against the simple cotton hotel sheets.  Castiel ran his clean hand through Dean’s hair as the man finally opened his eyes.   

“Hey.” Dean’s eyes were flecked gold brown and green in the warm morning light. 

“Hello,” Castiel said, claiming a kiss from this beautiful sundrenched man, “You said you wanted to be up by ten.”

Dean traced a tentative finger along the curve of Castiel’s bottom lip before kissing him again.

“I think that may be the best wakeup call I’ve ever gotten,” Dean admitted, eyes crinkling as he smiled against Castiel’s lips.

Dean returned the favor in the shower, hands trailing down Castiel’s chest to nest in his dark pubic hair, soapy fingers jerking him off with deft strokes until he was coming, head lolling against Dean’s shoulder as they stood under the steaming jets of water back-to-chest.  They washed each other’s hair, laughing, and kissing, tasting of wintergreen toothpaste and hotel shampoo.  Getting dressed proved to be a challenge, as Castiel didn’t like Dean covering up and giving him less surface area for kissing.  He had him pinned down on the bed in nothing but his boxers, raring to go for one more round, when Dean’s stomach gave a loud grumble, setting them both laughing again and ready for breakfast. 

And if they checked out of the hotel that morning wearing each other’s clothes, well that was nobody’s business but their own.

* * *

 

They were parked on the edge of some little lot a ways down the road from a pancake house Dean and Ellen usually hit up on the way back to Lawrence.  It was early afternoon.  They’d managed to check out by eleven, but the drive home was a little slow on account of Dean pulling over every few minutes to kiss Cas some more.  Eventually they’d made it to breakfast.  Dean knew the waitress by face, but she knew him well enough to ask where Ellen was, and “who was this handsome fella’?” in her place.  Dean looked across as Cas, decided it was time to man up, and, steeling himself, simply told her “This is my man, Castiel.”

Dean thought the poor girl’s eyes were gonna bug out of her head, but then Cas was holding his hand across the table and Dean knew it would all be alright.  Eventually the waitress managed to get their orders down and scurried back to the kitchen.  The door swung shut behind her, but not before they heard her exclamation of “Darla!  You are not gonna believe who is here, and with a young man!”

Dean turned back when Castiel squeezed his hand, laughing at the ruckus that was coming from the kitchen. 

“Perhaps we should make our orders to go,” Cas suggested with a smile, indicating most of the diner’s patrons who were staring in their direction, “I believe we may be a distraction to the wait staff.”

So here they were, crumpling up paper bags as they finished their waffles, sipping coffee and orange juice out of Styrofoam cups, safe in the front seat of the Impala.  Castiel was gazing at the empty Kansas landscape, eyes focused somewhere far in the distance, and Dean, honestly, was focused on Cas.  As if he could sense Dean’s stare, Castiel turned to look at him, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a smile.  As always, Dean’s mouth went dry as Cas’ eyes raked over his face.

“You know, the first night after we met, I had the most fantastic wet dream about you,” Castiel informed him with the casual air of someone discussing the weather.  Dean nearly choked on his coffee. 

“Oh yeah?” he tried to ask, his voice rougher than he intended.

“Indeed,” Castiel said, “We were in the backseat of a car.  It was quite similar to this one.  I must have seen it in the parking lot and made the connection subconsciously.  Anyway, you were all laid out on the leather seats and pretty much begging me to let you fuck my mouth.  I admit when I woke up at the time I was very unsettled, but now I think it sounds…delicious.”  Without further pause Cas was scrambling into the back seat, using Dean’s shoulder for stability as he awkwardly climbed over the leather upholstery.   

Dean thought for a second he was having a stroke.  He could only stare at Castiel in the rearview mirror as the man shrugged off his trench coat and began to loosen his tie.

“Dean,” Cas said patiently, “We have limited time before I need to pick up Samandriel.  Do you intend to stay up there, or are you going to get back here and let me blow you?”    

“Christ,” Dean swore softly, slamming his drink into the cup holder before practically tumbling out of the car to get to the back passenger door.

* * *

 

When it came to blow jobs, Cas didn’t mess around.  Dean had his jeans around his ankles and Cas’ head between his thighs and either he had a concussion from slamming his head against the car window when Cas had first sucked him down or Castiel was literally sucking Dean’s brain out through his dick because Dean’s vision was starting to white out and he had definitely lost all control of his mouth. 

“ _Dammit_ Cas, your mouth-your fucking mouth- _Christ_ , so hot-so good-want you all the time- _shit_ …”

Cas _preened_ as Dean babbled praises and expletives, his forearm like a vice across Dean’s hips as his head bobbed up and down, swirling his tongue around the head of Dean’s cock before sinking down until Dean felt the soft membrane at the back of Castiel’s throat.  Dean’s shirt was rucked up over his chest from when Castiel had started in on him, leaving wet kissing trails over Dean’s stomach that cooled now as the air hit them.  His hands cradled Cas’ skull, trying not to tug his hair as Cas took him apart, mouth so tight and wet and _perfect_ around his cock.  Dean thought he might actually be about to pass out when Castiel released his grip on his hips, placed his hands under Dean’s ass and actually _pushed_ up until his nose was buried in the coarse hair at the base of Dean’s cock.  As Dean breached his throat Castiel moaned deep and loud, the vibrations shuddering all the way up Dean’s spine, rolling his eyes back in his head. 

“Cas-Cas-I-“ Dean tried to warn him that he was close, in case he wanted to pull off, but instead Castiel looked him right in the eye and swallowed, the muscles of his throat rippling around the head of Dean’s cock.  With a shout, Dean’s head hit the hard metal of the car frame for the second time as his orgasm _ripped_ out of him.  Cas pinned his bucking hips, pressing him into the leather seat, swallowing him down again and again as Dean came, Cas’ name dropping like a mantra from his lips.  Dean could only card his hands through Castiel’s hair, chest heaving and legs like jelly as Cas finished him off.  He stroked up and down Dean’s thigh as he pulled off, placing a final kiss on his lower belly before looking back up, Dean’s hands still cupping his face.  Dean’s breath caught in his throat, gazing down at Castiel, blue eyes blown wide, a drop of white still caught on the corner of his mouth.      

“Marry me,” Dean gasped, before he had full control of his mouth again.  _Oh shit._   His heart stopped as he gauged Cas’ reaction, though he couldn’t fully regret the outburst.  Luckily Castiel just huffed a laugh, wiping his mouth on his sleeve as he climbed off of Dean so he could pull his jeans back up. 

“Ask me again in a year or two, then we’ll see,” Cas said with a hint of mischief, folding up his trench coat and tossing it back into the front seat.  Dean laughed too, fixing up his clothes as best he could.

“With a mouth like that I just might,” Dean panted, “Jesus Christ _._ ”  Castiel gave a little smirk, as if he knew full well how good he was at blowjobs, thank you very much, before leaning in for a soft kiss.  Dean smiled against Cas’ lips, reaching for his belt to return the favor.  He was surprised when Cas stilled his hand, pulling away quietly. 

“Don’t you-“ Dean tried to offer, more than eager to reciprocate.

“I’ll take a rain check,” Castiel told him, straightening his tie and settling Dean’s shirt back around his midriff, “We should be heading home.”

“But-“ Cas silenced him with another kiss, strong hands on Dean’s face.  He pulled away after a minute, and Dean nodded in understanding. 

“Come on,” Dean said, opening the door, “Let’s get you home safe to your brothers.”

* * *

 

Dean leaned against the side of the Impala, waiting in the driveway outside Cas’ house.  “Wait here,” Cas had told him, “I just want check on Samandriel before we say goodbye.”  So Dean waited patiently, but the next person to emerge from the front door was definitely not Cas.  This guy was way too short.

“You must be Castiel’s Mr. Winchester,” the man greeted him, voice friendly but with a glint of suspicion in his eyes.

“Dean. And yes, I am,” Dean told him, offering his hand, “You must be Castiel’s brother.”

“Gabriel,” he said, taking Dean’s hand in a vice-like grip, “I’ve heard a lot about you, Dean.”

“All good I hope,” Dean tried to joke, but stopped when Gabriel’s eyes narrowed.  For a guy under six foot, Castiel’s brother was kind of intimidating.  And in retrospect, he probably _hadn’t_ heard all good about Dean, given the last few weeks.

“Castiel really likes you,” Gabriel observed, still smiling pleasantly.

“I really like him,” Dean told him honestly.     

“Not gonna turn tail and run away on him again, are we?” Gabriel asked.

“Not planning on it,” Dean answered, standing his ground.  He deserved this, but Cas had forgiven him, and that was enough for Dean.  Gabriel stared at him intently for almost a full minute, tilting his head in a way that reminded Dean strongly of Castiel.

“I’m just gonna put this out there,” Gabriel said finally, eyes flashing, “You hurt my brother, in any way he doesn’t _like_ , again, and I will gleefully plan and execute your murder.  Do we understand each other?”

“Listen buddy,” Dean told him, “If I hurt Cas, I’ll make sure you’ve got the best attorney in the state at your trial, because I’ll probably have deserved it.”  Gabriel raised his eyebrows in surprise, but nodded with something like approval.

“So long as we’re clear.”

“We are.” 

“Gabriel,” Castiel interrupted, returning from inside the house, “I know what you’re doing and I would prefer that you did _not_.”  Gabriel laughed as his older brother approached, giving Dean a wink that was only slightly menacing.

 “Just looking out for you, big brother,” he assured Cas, reaching up to ruffle the taller man’s hair, “You know, your voice sounds a little _rough_.  I hope you’re not coming down with something.  Nice to meet you Dean!”

Dean’s face burned as Castiel shooed his brother back inside, Gabriel chuckling all the way.  When Cas returned, he was rubbing his temples with his thumb and forefinger, a bemused but tired smile on his face. 

“Your family seems to like me so far,” Dean joked.  Castiel chuckled, relaxing as he saw Dean wasn’t upset. 

“Gabriel can be…overwhelming,” Cas said, taking Dean’s hands in his, “But he means well.”

“Hey, the guy wants to look out for his brother,” Dean shrugged, “Sounds like somebody else I know.”

“It kind of runs in the family,” Cas admitted before pulling Dean in for a kiss.  Dean rested his hands on Castiel’s waist, keeping the presses of their mouths soft and chaste in the warm afternoon sun. 

“Thank you,” Cas whispered when they parted, low baritone still sending a shiver down Dean’s spine.

“What for?” Dean asked.  As far as he was concerned, Cas had freakin’ saved _him._   Castiel just smiled, and stepped away, holding Dean’s hand for one extra moment before he turned to go inside.  Dean just shook his head and went to slide back into the Impala. 

“Dean?”  Dean poked his head out of the driver’s side window to see Cas staring at him from the sidewalk.  “Yeah Cas?”

“I’ll see you on Thursday.”

Dean grinned. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Friends, we are in the homestretch! Two more chapters! Thanks for reading and I love all your comments!


	15. First Day Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Castiel are excited. Bobby pays Dean's classroom a visit.

Dean heard a knock on his front door.  He looked at the clock, frowning.  It was one in the morning.  He wrenched himself from his seat on his couch, pausing the Dr. Sexy episode he’d TiVo’d, lesson plans all laid out on the coffee table.  He heard the knocking again as he made his way to the door.

“Alright, alright, I’m comin’,” he shouted, “This had better not be a serial killer or something ‘cause let me tell you I have just had too good a weekend for it to be ruined by-“  He wrenched open the door to find his angel of Thursday, smiling and slightly out of breath. 

“I’m glad you had a good time,” Castiel said, before launching himself at Dean, catching him in a filthy kiss.  Dean’s hands automatically gripped Cas’ hips, licking into the man’s mouth with abandon as they stumbled back into his apartment.  Dean broke the kiss, chest heaving as they stood touching in his entryway.

“Um…wow.  Wow,” Dean breathed against Cas’ skin, “It’s good to see you, Cas.”

“Samandriel finally fell asleep,” Castiel panted, fingers tracing eagerly over Dean’s chest to slip beneath the waistband of his jeans, tugging them down, “Gabriel’s staying with him for one more night.  I thought we could-one more-“

“Yeah,” Dean agreed quickly, going to work on the buttons of Castiel’s shirt, “Absolutely.  God _damn,_ you’re hot like this, Cas.”  Already Castiel was mouthing at the skin of his neck, lips and teeth skimming over barely faded hickeys that made Dean gasp, riding the line between pain and pleasure like it was his fucking job.  Dean reached behind Cas to shut the front door so he could slam him up against it, pressing a thigh between Cas’ legs.  Castiel rutted against Dean roughly as they kissed, mouths open and hot on each other’s skin.  Cas’ head hit the door with a solid thunk as Dean licked a stripe clean up his neck, his hands scrabbling for the hem of Dean’s t-shirt.

“You,” Castiel growled, yanking Dean’s shirt over his head, “Have a lovely apartment.”

“Thanks,” Dean laughed, then gasped again as Cas’ fingers tweaked a nipple, “You should see the bedroom.”  Castiel shook his head, his face flushed with desire and exertion.

“No time,” he insisted, and then Dean was flat on his back on the living room carpet.

“Holy shit,” was all Dean had time to say, before Castiel was pinning him down and his amazing mouth knocked the wind clean out of him.

* * *

 

“Dean.  Can you take me with you when you leave?  I need to meet Gabriel in the student parking lot.”

“Uh…sure.  Why don’t you just take your car?”

“I left it with Gabriel.  He needed it to take Samandriel to school if I was…otherwise occupied.”

“How did you even get over here if you didn’t drive?”

“I took a bus.”

“What bus runs at one o’clock in the morning?”

“I chose not to question it.  How are you?”

“…Stellar.  Why?”

“I thought you might be sore.”

“Yeah, and I like it.  How about you?  Any rug burn?”

“Yes.  …I think I like it as well.”

“…Alright, let’s get going.  It’s almost seven-thirty, and it sucks but we can’t just lay here and cuddle all day.”

“That is regrettable.”

* * *

 

Dean gripped the steering wheel with white knuckles, taking a deep breath and releasing it slowly as they sat in the faculty parking lot. 

“What’s wrong?” Castiel rested a hand on Dean’s thigh.

“I’m just getting ready,” Dean said, “Once we’re in the building I have to be Mr. Winchester, and you have to be Mr. Novak again.”

Castiel’s hand moved to Dean’s cheek, turning his head to press a soft kiss to Dean’s lips.  “Only for a week.”

Dean moved his mouth against his, savoring his taste, chasing the Castiel’s lips when he pulled away with a contented sigh.

“There’s somethin’ I want to say to you,” Dean began, but Castiel smiled and shook his head.

“Later,” Castiel promised, “You’re going to be late, and those kids need their teacher.”

Dean shook his head.  “There’s time for this.”

“Yes,” Castiel agreed, “There is.  All the time we want.”  He stroked Dean’s cheek with the tips of his fingers before shooing him out of the car. 

“Call me tonight,” Castiel told him through the car window, “You can tell me anything you like.”

“I will,” Dean promised with a grin, grabbing his jacket, “So get ready.”

Castiel waited until Dean was inside before gathering his own things.  He looked around the interior of the Impala, stroking absentmindedly at the dashboard.   Already the somewhat intimidating vehicle was starting to feel like home, as was the man who drove it.  Castiel smiled.  He was getting ahead of himself again.  Castiel emerged from the Impala, thanking her silently for her welcome as he headed to the student parking lot.  Hopefully he would still have time to meet Samandriel before he had to go to class. 

* * *

 

Dean was just putting on some soft music for rest time, all nine of his students snuggled in their nap mats, when Ellen got his attention with a hand on the small of his back. 

“Principle Singer wants to see you,” she told him softly. 

“Yeah, family dinner’s tomorrow, right?”  Dean asked, confused, “You can tell Bobby I’m not gonna miss it again-“  Ellen shook her head. 

“Not Bobby, _Principle Singer_ ,” she corrected him, “He’s in the hallway.  He says he needs you for a minute.”  Dean looked up to see Bobby in the doorway, looking uncomfortable as usual in his suit and tie.  He waved Dean over, and Dean followed him out into the hallway.

“Hey Bobby,” Dean greeted him, “Did you get your Father’s Day gift alright?”  Bobby chuckled.

“Yeah, Ellen draped it over my chair when I came down for breakfast,” Bobby told him, “It was real sweet of you boys, not to get all feely or nothin’.”    

“So what merits my lowly classroom a visit from Principle Singer?” Dean joked, mostly out of nerves.  He almost never saw Bobby at school, mainly out of his surrogate father’s efforts not to look like he was playing favorites.  If Bobby was in his room, it was usually not good news.    

“I got a complaint about you today,” Bobby informed him, “I wanted you to know before it got through the grapevine.”

“What?” Dean exclaimed, “Who from?”

The old man snorted.  “Who do you think?  Lilith Talbot can’t keep her goddamned nose out of anybody’s business.”

“What did she have to say?” Dean asked cautiously crossing his arms over his chest.

“That she saw you and Castiel Novak macking in the parking lot this morning,” Bobby said with a shrug, as if he was not at all surprised.  _Sam_ , Dean cursed silently.  That moose couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

“What did you tell her?”

“I told her that you were a professional and that your personal life was your own goddamned business,” Bobby said,“ O’course she tried to go off on me about exposing her child to ‘inappropriate lifestyles’ or some crap.  I told her to go reread the section in our mission statement on teaching our students tolerance and understanding of all kinds of people and if she didn’t like it then she could fork up the cash to send her kids to private school.  That shut her up right quick.”

Dean felt the knots in his stomach ease one by one.

“Thanks Bobby,” he said, “It means a lot.”

“That’s ‘Principal Singer’ to you, boy,” Bobby corrected him gruffly, “And keep it off school grounds next time.  I can’t have the staff sucking face in the parking lot.  Gives the wrong impression.” 

Dean grinned.  “Yessir.” He turned to return to his classroom, but Bobby caught him suddenly by the arm.  The old man looked at him with fatherly affection, but also concern.

“What’s up Bobby?” Dean asked.  Principal Singer sighed.

“There’s gonna be flack for this Dean,” he told him, “And I’m gonna stand by you.  But I won’t be able to protect you from all of it.  So I need you to ask yourself, honestly: Is this gonna be worth the trouble it’s gonna cause you?”  

For a second Dean felt fear.  He felt the suspicious gazes of close-minded parents, and the harsh words tossed around in the staff room when they thought he couldn’t hear.  But then he felt the strong grip of a slender hand on his knee in the car, he felt the thunder in his chest as a whiskey rough voice whispered in his ear, and he felt the gaze of a pair of steady blue eyes, full of want and trust and maybe something more.  Dean smiled, clapping Bobby on the shoulder.

“I really think it is Bobby,” he said, “For the first time, I really think so.”

The old man grinned, shaking his head.

“Alright then ‘ya lovesick idjit, get back to your kids.”

“Yessir.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My lovely readers, this is the last chapter before the epilogue!


	16. Epilogue

_Four years later_

“Thanks again Lisa, for making time for this,” Dean said for at least the fifth time that morning.  Lisa just waved him off as she gathered her second graders in to a loose circle for show and tell. 

“Sammie’s been excited all week,” she told him, “I don’t think I’ve ever heard him talk so much.  It’s been great to see him opening up.”  Dean felt a warm blossom of pride at Lisa’s words.  After four years he felt as strongly toward his little brother-in-law as any father for his son.

“Yeah it’s been a challenging time for him,” Dean said, “Me and Cas thought it might be nice for him to get to be the center of attention for a little bit.”   Lisa smiled.

“Well a new baby brings big changes for everyone,” she agreed, “It’s sweet that you two are worried, but I think Sam already loves being an uncle almost as much as you love being a dad.”

“He must be crazy about it then,” Dean said with a grin.  Lisa shook her head with a laugh.

“What?” he asked her.

“Nothing,” Lisa assured him, “You guys are just too cute.”  Dean blushed as Samandriel poked his blonde head in the classroom door. 

“She’s here!” he announced to the waiting circle of kids.  Outside the door Dean could just see Cas, a pink bundle tucked safely in his arms.  Lisa’s students craned their necks, as excited for their visitors as Samandriel.

“Are you ready for us Ms. Braeden?” Cas gravelly voice called from the hallway.

“Come on in Mr. Novak,” Lisa answered, “Sam, do you want to introduce your guests to the class?”

“Yeah!” Samandriel bounced into the room eagerly, dragging Castiel by the hand.  Already the second grader was getting taller, almost to Cas’ waist, his proportions getting less babyish and more balanced.  Samandriel had blossomed after his shy start in Dean’s class into a talkative and energetic kid. 

“This is my big brother Castiel,” Samandriel continued, “You guys should probably call him Mr. Novak though.”  The class gave a polite ‘Hello Mr. Novak’ as Cas took a seat in the chair Lisa had set in the middle of the circle earlier.  Most of their eyes however, were glued to the blankets in Cas’ arms, which wiggled suddenly as Castiel adjusted the blankets to reveal a beautiful baby girl.  As usual, Dean’s heart stuttered when her big brown eyes flickered to him in awareness, then back up to Cas, before surveying her new surroundings curiously.  Samandriel grinned widely at his classmate’s enraptured faces.

“And this,” he said, “Is my new baby niece.” 

The class oohed and ahhed.  One of the girls raised her hand.

“Is she your baby?” She asked Castiel shyly.

“Yes she is,” Castiel told her, his smile soft and warm as he looked down at his daughter, “She is my and Mr. Winchester’s baby.”  He looked at Dean then, and Dean felt his heart swell for the second time in less than two minutes as he returned his partner’s smile.  A few little heads turned back to look at him, eyes wide.  He could hear a few questioning voices murmuring low as he flushed a little under the children’s gazes.  _Mr. Winchester has a baby?_

“Yeah, Castiel and De-Mr. Winchester are _married_ ,” Samandriel told them, remembering to use Dean’s full name at school, even though he was ‘Dean’ now at home, “They wanted to have a baby, but they’re both boys, so we adopted one instead.  We had to wait a _really_ long time.”  He nodded sagely, his expression one of infinite patience. 

“What’s her name?” Someone asked.          

“Her name is Mary Ann,” Samandriel informed his classmates, “We named her Mary because that was Mr. Winchester’s mom’s name, and we named her Ann too because Anna is my big sister who takes care of me sometimes when Castiel and Mr. Winchester have to be at work.”  Mary Ann gurgled happily in Castiel’s arms, sending a wave of titters through the second graders seated around them.  Castiel rocked her gently, murmuring softly to her.

“Can I hold her for a minute Castiel?” Samandriel asked.  Castiel looked to Dean, who nodded, then to Lisa, who shrugged with a smile.

“Of course Samandriel,” he told his brother, standing up to let Samandriel take his seat before carefully handing him Mary Ann. 

“I have to be very careful when I hold her,” Samandriel told the class, demonstrating how to properly support Mary Ann’s head in his arms, “I had to practice for a really long time before I could do it without Castiel or Mr. Winchester’s help.”   Samandriel continued to answer his classmates questions and Castiel came to stand by Dean, silently lacing their fingers together.  Dean squeezed Cas’ hand as Samandriel coddled their baby girl, who laughed in her uncle’s arms. 

“Really, she’s like my baby sister,” Samandriel was telling them, “Even though tech-ni-cal-ly she’s not.  That’s ‘cause Castiel is my brother, even though he and Mr. Winchester are like my dads.”

“That sounds really hard,” one of the kids said in confusion.

“Sometimes it’s confusing,” Samandriel agreed, “And when I was little sometimes I was worried because my family was different than other people’s.  But Mr. Winchester says that names and how you’re related doesn’t matter as long as you love each other.  And we love Mary Ann very much, so she’s part of our family now, too.”

Dean heard a sniffle beside him, and turned to see Lisa dabbing at her eyes with a Kleenex.  He raised his eyebrows in concern, but she waved him away, clearing her throat as she stepped forward. 

“That was great Sam,” she said, “And what a wonderful show and tell! Boys and girls, can you say thank you to Samandriel and his family?”  A chorus of “thank you!”s echoed in Dean’s ears as Castiel moved to take Mary Ann in his arms once more.  Dean followed him, stopping to pat Samandriel on the shoulder.

“Great job, little man,” he said, “I couldn’t have said it better myself.”

“Thanks Dean,” Samandriel whispered, making sure no one heard him use his first name.  The kids milled around them, gathering lunchboxes as Lisa began to line them up to head to the cafeteria.  Samandriel gave Cas a hug and Dean a high five before going to join his classmates in line. 

“We should probably head home soon,” Castiel said as Mary Ann gripped Dean’s finger with surprising strength, “She’s bound to be cranky if she doesn’t go down for her nap.”

“Yeah I should probably go save Ellen,” Dean agreed, “I’m glad I got to be here though.”

“Me too,” Castiel said, brushing his lips against Dean’s softly as the classroom emptied out.  Dean smiled as their foreheads touched, eyes locked as Mary Ann cooed in Castiel’s arms. 

“I love you,” Dean said quietly.

“And I you,” Castiel answered, “I’ll see you after school.”

“See you,” Dean said, before leaning down to place a kiss on Mary Ann’s nose, “I’ll see you too, baby girl.   Enjoy your nap and be good for your daddy.”

“She always is,” Castiel said gently, “Goodbye, Dean.”  He kissed Dean one more time before walking out of the class room.  After a second Dean followed him, calling down the hall.

“Hey Cas,” he said, and his husband turned to look at him, blue eyes questioning, “Uh, maybe we could see if Anna doesn’t mind having a sleepover for Sam and Mary Ann on Friday.  We could get some dinner, maybe see a movie?”

Castiel grinned.  “We can ask,” He said, “After all, we did name our child after her.  But what are we going to do all night with no children in the house?”

Dean grinned back.  “I’m sure we’ll think of something.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it. My readers, it has been a long journey, but a great one. Thank you so much for all of your feedback! Please leave me any questions or comments, and I'll be sure to answer as best I can! if you liked Learning Curve, feel free to check out my other works!


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